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A MEMORIAL 



OF 



Rev. JOSEPH TUCKERMAN. 



WORCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS : 
1 1888. 



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PRIVATE PRESS OF FRANKLIN P. RICE. 

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CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Biographical Note . . . , v 

List of Printed Works .... vii 

Funeral Oration on General Washington . i 

Seven Discourses on Miscellaneous Subjects 31 

Sermon at Ordination of the Rev. Samuel 

Gilman . . . . . .225 

Sermon at Ordination of the Rev. Orville 

Dewey 287 



BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE, 



JOSEPH TUCKERMAN was born in Boston, 
Massachusetts, on the 18th of January, 1778. In 
1798 he graduated from Harvard College, which 
in later years conferred the degree of Doctor of 
Divinity upon him. He then studied for his pro- 
fession, and was settled over a parish in Chelsea 
in 1 80 1, where he remained for twenty- five years. 
During this time he was instrumental in forming 
the "American Seaman's Friend Society," the first 
of its kind in the United States, for whose benefit 
he wrote a number of tracts which had large cir- 
culation. 

In 1826 he removed to Boston, to begin "The 
Ministry at Large," a city mission for the poor on 
a broad basis, which soon came to be connected 
with "The Benevolent Fraternity of Churches," an 
association of several parishes for cooperative charity. 



VI 

During a visit to Europe in 1833-4, he assisted in 
establishing the Ministry at Large in London and 
Liverpool, besides greatly stimulating work of a like 
nature in other places. In this work he continued 
to labor until 1838, when his health broke down 
completely. He died in Havana, March 20th, 1840. 

His life was one of self devotion and earnest 
labor for the good of others. His "Poor's Purse" 
was kindly supplied with voluntary subscriptions 
from those whose sympathy was excited by his 
stirring words and deep love of his work ; and 
notably by a Society of Ladies who called them- 
selves "The Tuckerman Sewing Circle," and met 
monthly for the sale of their own works of inge- 
nuity, passing the proceeds over to him. This 
Society still exists, and still continues its charitable 
labors. The impetus which he gave to intelligent 
philanthropy has not yet passed away, either in 
this country or in England. 

The list of his printed works, which is here ap- 
pended, is necessarily imperfect, as he kept no record 
of them. He contributed largely to the "Monthly 
Anthology and Boston Review," the "North American 
Review," the "Christian Examiner," and other period- 
icals ; and wrote many tracts for sailors and others, 
some of which went through a number of editions. 



LIST OF PRINTED WORKS. 



*** The publications of Mr. Tuckerman in the libraries named are indicated by 
letters as follows: H., Harvard University; B., Boston Athenaeum; A., American 
Antiquarian Society. 

1. A Funeral Oration occasioned by the death of General 
George Washington, before the Boston Mechanic Association. 
Boston, 1800. 8vo, pp. 24. H. B. A. 

2. A Sermon before the Ancient and Honorable Artillery 
Company. Boston, 1804. 8vo, pp. 23. H. B. A. 

3. Seven Discourses on Miscellaneous Subjects. Boston, 
1813. i2mo, pp. 180. A. 

4. A Sermon at the Ordination of Rev. Samuel Gilman. 
Charleston, S. C, 1820. 8vo, pp. 46. H. B. A. 

5. Two Sermons preached at Marblehead. Salem, 1820. B. 

6. A Sermon on the Twentieth Anniversary of his Ordina- 
tion. Boston, 1 821. 8vo. H. B. A. 

7. A Discourse before the Society for propagating the Gos- 
pel among the Indians and others in North America. Cam- 
bridge, 1 821. 8vo, pp. 48. B. A. 

8. A Sermon at the Ordination of Rev. Orville Dewey. New 
Bedford, 1824. 8vo, pp. 41. H. B. A. 

9. Letter on the principles of the Missionary Enterprise. 
Boston, 1826. i2mo. H. B. 

10. Extract from an Address. 1826. i2mo. 



Vlll 



11. Quarterly Reports as Minister at Large, 1826, 1827I H. B. 

12. A Sermon : Religion a Practical Principle. 1828. B. 

13. Semi-annual Reports, &c, 1 828-1 833. H. B. 

14. A Letter to Hon. Harrison Gray Otis, respecting the 
House of Correction and Common Jail in Boston. 1830. i2mo. 

15. Prize Essay on the Wages paid to Females. Philadel- 
phia, 1830. i2mo. H. B. 

16. Report of the Commissioners appointed by the Order of 
the House of Representatives on the Pauper System of the 
Commonwealth. Boston, 1832. 8vo. H. 

17. Report on a Farm-School. 1832. 8vo. 

18. Introduction to the American translation of Degerando's 
Visitor of the Poor. 1832. i2mo, pp. 30. H. B. 

19. A Sermon: the Gospel a Blessing to the Poor. 1832. B. 

20. A Letter to the Executive Committee of the Benevolent 
Fraternity of Churches, on the Ministry at Large. 1834. 8vo. B. 

21. A Sermon at the Ordination of C. F. Barnard and F. T. 
Gray as Ministers at Large. 1834. 8vo. H. B. 

22. Address on the Obligation of Christians to become 
Ministers. Newcastle, England, 1834. 

23. The First Annual Report of the Association of Delegates 
from the Benevolent Societies of Boston. 1835. i2mo. H. B. 

24. Gleams of Truth, or Scenes from Real Life. 1835. H * 

25. A Letter respecting Santa Cruz as a Winter Residence, 
addressed to Dr. J. C. Warren. 1837. $vo. H - 

26. The Principles and Results of the Ministry at Large in 
Boston. 1838. i2mo, pp. 327. H. A. 

27. Joseph Tuckerman on the Elevation of the Poor. A 
Selection from his Reports as Minister at Large in Boston. 
With an Introduction by Edward Everett Hale. Boston, 1874. 
i2mo, pp. 206. H. A. 



A FUNERAL ORATION 



OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 



$mtnl $mp Wa0luwjt0tt* 



A FUNERAL ORATION 



OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF 



fttuml $wK$t WiuUttgtmi* 



WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF THE 



Boston Mechanic (-Association, 



AND 



Delivered before them, on the 2 2d of Feb. 1800. 



By JOSEPH TUCKERMAN. 



Consulere patriae, parcere afflictis fera 
Caede abstinere, tempus atque irae dare, 
Orbi quietem, saeculo pacem suo. 
Haec summa virtus; petitur hac coelum via. 

Seneca. 



BOSTON: 
PRINTED BY MANNING & LORING. 



At a Meeting of the Trustees of the Mechanic Asso- 
ciation, Feb, 22, 1 8 00. 

ON Motion, Voted, That the Thanks of the President and 
Trustees of this Association, in behalf of the Mechanic 
Interests of the Town of Boston, be presented to Mr. Joseph 
Tuckerman, for the pathetic, elegant and judicious Oration, 
commemorative of the sublime virtues and pre-eminent Services 
of the late GENERAL WASHINGTON, delivered by him this 
Day; and that he be requested to furnish a Copy thereof for 
the Press. 

A true Copy of Record, JAMES PHILLIPS, SecWy. 



Boston, February 24, 1800. 
SIR, 
WE have the Pleasure to communicate the following unani- 
mous Vote of the Board of Trustees of the Mechanic Association; 
and to assure you of the respectful Consideration with which we 
have the honor to be, 

Your most obedient, humble Servants, 

JONATHAN HUNNEWELL, 



BENJAMIN RUSSELL, 
WILLIAM TODD. 



Mr. Joseph Tuckerman. 



Boston, February 24, 1800. 
GENTLEMEN, 
WITHOUT apology, I present to you the Oration written at 
your request. Its favorable reception demands my gratitude; 
and I only desire, that it may be perused with that candor, 



which should ever distinguish those productions, which derive 
their principal merit from the subject by which they are occa- 
sioned. 

I am, Gentlemen, 

With great respect, 

Your humble Servant, 

JOSEPH TUCKERMAN. 
Mr. Jonathan Hunnewell, 
Mr. Benjamin Russell, 
Mr. William Todd. 



WASHINGTON. 



<&mtttmtn of tijt JWccfjanfc association, 

W E have assembled to commemorate 
an event, which will ever be considered as 
one of the most interesting and melancholy, 
in the history of our country. An event, 
which, as it awakens every mournful sen- 
sation, should also excite our gratitude to 
him who is the disposer of all things, and 
to whose divine interpositions we are in- 
debted for our freedom, sovereignty and 
independence. 

It is, Gentlemen, perfectly consistent 
with the character which you have uni- 
formly presented, to meet at this time, in 



8 

order to pay the last respects to the 
memory of your departed friend and polit- 
ical father. Many of your interest have 
shared with him, the arduous toils in which 
he was engaged, and by the firmness of 
their conduct, acquired those stations, which 
could be gained only by superior merit. 
With these advantages, you are sensible of 
his worth, and are desirous of exhibiting 
the only testimony of affection which is 
now in your power. To this exercise you 
are prompted by the best inclinations of 
your natures ; and he who has implanted 
gratitude in man, and given him a spirit to 
understand and to support his rights, will 
look with an approving smile'on this pleas- 
ing and instructive duty. 

On this day, we have been accustomed 
to indulge the fervor of our love, in cele- 
brating the birth of WASHINGTON. A 
recollection of the services which he per- 
formed, of the dangers to which he was 
exposed, and the unparalleled magnanimity 
which he at all times discovered, then 



served to keep alive the flame of patriot- 
ism in our breasts, and constantly to render 
his character more dear to our minds. On 
this occasion, every heart exulted, and every 
tongue proclaimed his praise. We reverted 
to the season, when, governed by foreign 
laws and foreign manners, we existed only 
as the tributaries of a nation, to whose 
command our resources were subjected, 
and by whose authority every action was 
controlled. The powerful contrast between 
this condition and that which was secured 
to us by the first of men, called forth the 
warmest effusions of our souls, and induced 
us to behold him as formed by Heaven, 
for the accomplishment of this great and 
important end. To him, we traced all the 
happiness which resulted from liberty, and 
all the blessings which were attached to a 
free Constitution. 

But for the testimonials of joy, we now 
substitute the badges of grief; and the 
pleasure which beamed from every coun- 
tenance, is exchanged for the gloominess 



IO 

of sorrow. If then it be permitted to regret 
the loss of a friend, endeared to us by a 
similarity of sentiment ; if we may lament 
a removal of our benefactor, who has in- 
terfered in the hour of distress, and rescued 
us from ruin ; if we may indulge our re- 
flections on the deprivation of a parent, 
who has sacrificed his own to procure our 
enjoyment ; or rather, who has found his 
highest satisfaction in promoting our fe- 
licity, it cannot be deemed improper to 
express our feelings, when death has taken 
from us one, in whom all these character- 
istics were connected. Let us then en- 
deavor to analyze the life, and to display 
the merits of our illustrious Chief. These 
are so well known, that a relation of them, 
will only be a recurrence to those impres- 
sions, which are deeply engraven on the 
memories of all. 

General WASHINGTON was born on 
the twenty-second of February, seventeen 
hundred and thirty-two, and was the son 
of a planter, residing in the State of Vir- 



1 1 

ginia. Under the direction of a private 
tutor, he imbibed those maxims, which 
have consummated his greatness, and se- 
cured for his country an unrivalled respect 
among the nations of the world. His de- 
sire for military attainments, presented 
itself among the first impulses of his mind. 
At the early age of fifteen, when youth, 
accustomed only to the domestic circle, 
shrinks from the appearance of danger, he 
had made preparations to enter the marine 
service in the capacity of a midshipman. 
Yielding however to the solicitations of a 
fond mother, he abandoned this favorite 
intention. Scarce four years had elapsed, 
before he was again invested with the 
insignia of a soldier ; and such were the 
extent of his views, the richness of his 
invention and the fortitude of his mind, 
that at twenty-one he was deputed on a 
commission, which required for its execu- 
tion the hardihood of a veteran, and the 
skill of an accomplished General. His 
remonstrances not being attended with the 
desired effect, he was sent to gain by his 



12 

prowness, what the force of argument 
would not produce ; and in his conquest 
at Redstone, he gave a prelude of those 
abilities, which, but a short time after this, 
saved from destruction the scattered forces 
of a British officer,* whose haughty spirit 
disdained to receive instruction from one, 
so much younger than himself in the arts 
of war. 

At the establishment of peace in seven- 
teen hundred and sixty-three, he retired to 
his estate, to cultivate the milder virtues 
of private life ; and formed that connexion, 
from which he anticipated his future hap- 
piness. At this time he probably acquired 
that love of retirement, which appeared 
so conspicuous through the rest of his 
life. In seventeen hundred and seventy- 
four, he was a member of the Conti- 
nental Congress ; and on the fifteenth of 
June, '75, was unanimously chosen by 
them, commander in chief of the American 
armies. The manner in which he per- 
formed this duty, through the long and 

* General Braddock. 



*3 

tedious space of eight years will not require 
a recital. Or, if any would ask for evi- 
dences, we would point to almost every 
part of our extensive country. We would 
ask him to behold the present state of our 
nation, which, under God, is indebted to 
his exertions, for the greatest portion of 
the respectability by which it is distin- 
guished. 

Among the many instances of valor which 
appear in his life, we might advert to the 
prudent, yet determined conduct, which 
preserved this town from the destructive 
fury of its disappointed adversaries. We 
might call your attention to witness the 
immortal glory which he acquired at York, 
Trenton, Monmouth and Princeton. But 
it will be sufficient at this time to ob- 
serve, that having to regulate, to clothe 
and to arm an undisciplined body of men ; 
and not only to contend with the power of 
his enemies, but with the doubts, the prej- 
udices and the wants of those who had 
enlisted under his banners, he achieved 



those wonders, which will ever command 
the admiration of the world. He was, in 
effect, the absolute ruler of our nation ; 
and from his acceptance of the supreme 
command, to his resignation in seventeen 
hundred and eighty-three, its whole opera- 
tions were directed by his counsels. 

Our rights being secured, the necessity 
of establishing them on a permanent foun- 
dation was soon perceived. The disordered 
state of our finances, and the derangement 
of our public affairs urged the immediate 
performance of this. And in the Conven- 
tion assembled for the purpose, WASH- 
INGTON was elected to the Presidential 
chair. 

In seventeen hundred and eighty-nine, 
he was elevated by his countrymen to the 
dignity of President of the United States ; 
and having twice officiated in this capacity, 
with that wisdom which was peculiar to 
himself, he again took his leave of public 
life. He descended from the most honor- 



*5 

able station in which he could be placed 
by the power of man, to the humble rank 
of a citizen. I say the most honorable 
station, because it was given by the suf- 
frages of a free people, who were acquainted 
with the excellence of his character, and the 
benefits, which from this source had re- 
sulted to his country. His farewell address 
contains the principles on which his gov- 
ernment was founded ; and comprises a 
system of national policy, unexampled in 
ancient or modern times. An observance 
of its directions will lead to true greatness, 
and furnish characters like himself, to per- 
petuate our glory and our happiness. 

The official letters of General WASH- 
INGTON, during our revolutionary war, 
will be preserved as a record of the strength 
of his abilities, the purity of his motives, 
and the address with which he treated 
every subject connected with his station. 
They will teach your children the hardships 
which he encountered, the discourage- 
ments which appeared at every step of his 



i6 

progress, and the unshaken virtue which 
he exercised, even in situations, where it 
could scarcely be deemed a crime to deviate. 
In perusing these, they will contemplate 
with wonder, his soldiers unused to war, 
and wavering through fear at those periods 
when fortitude was most essential ; and 
yet, with his assistance, performing works, 
which would have reflected honor on troops 
inured to toil, and accustomed to success. 
But they will particularly observe his re- 
liance on the Providence of Almighty God, 
and the firmness of his mind, which pro- 
ceeded from a consciousness that he was 
contending only for that freedom, which 
the God of nature intended for his rational 
offspring. Liberty, and not conquest, was 
the object of his wishes ; and so plainly 
does this appear, that even calumny has 
not dared to offer a contradictory insinua- 
tion. 

If we were here to close our retrospect 
of the conduct of this wonderful man, 
posterity would consider no additions as 



•-" 



necessary for the completion of his virtues. 
As a hero and legislator he will ever stand 
superior to competition, and be quoted as 
a model of all which can dicmifv the char- 
acter. and secure glorious fame. But if we 
contemplate him in his retreat, interes: 
indeed for the welfare of his country, yet 
unambitious of preferment ; if we view him 
as acting in the capacity of a common juror ; 
and again, when our privileges were en- 
dangered by foreign aggression, consent- 
ing to quit the scenes of tranquillity to 
which he had become strongly attached, 
and accepting a second situation in com- 
mand, we shall acknowledge that he has 
attained the summit of human excellence, 
and that panegyric is lost in the mention 
of his name. 

WASHINGTON in early life, possessed 
a warm and impetuous disposition. This 
was probably the cause, which incited him 
so early to commence that career, which 
has been so honorable to himself and so 
productive to his country. But with a 

3 



i8 

heart which was influenced by every tender 
sensibility, he corrected that ardour, which 
might otherwise have produced the most 
unhappy effects. He knew how to mingle 
ambition with humility ; zeal, with pru- 
dence ; and a love of his country, with a 
love of mankind. He possessed the most 
essential qualities of the most renowned 
men ; and has been so wise, yet unaffected 
in every measure which he proposed ; so 
regular, yet resolved in every action, that 
in a review of his virtues, we know not 
which most to commend. By his unvaried 
presence of mind, he secured the admira- 
tion of the brave, and by his caution, he 
won their confidence ; by the judiciousness 
of his administration, he acquired the es- 
teem of that band of patriots over whom 
he presided ; and by the purity of his life, 
gained the affection of the good, and the 
hallowed remembrance of ages yet unborn. 

The character of the beloved hero, whose 
death we deplore, was marked with those 
traits, which are rarely to be discerned 



*9 

among the conquerors of mankind. Chris- 
tian benevolence glowed in his heart, and 
animated his conduct in every situation. 
To be generous, is ever the characteristic 
of a brave man. It is a quality so nearly 
related to true courage, that wherever it 
cannot be perceived, we pronounce the 
action to be rash and unmanly. Every 
imputation of this kind was avoided, by 
that spirit of humanity, which was mingled 
with every deliberation. He fought only 
for the religion and civil rights, which were 
bestowed on us by the God whom we 
served, and used no other methods for the 
acquisition of these, than what were con- 
sistent with the end which he proposed. 
In passing with him through the late con- 
test, which terminated in the independence 
of our country, we may indeed lament, that 
so many fell as victims of delusion ; but we 
must love the heart, which melted with 
pity for the sufferings of an adversary ; we 
must venerate the man to whom no one 
was indifferent, and who possessed those 
feelings, which equally recommended him 



20 

to friends and foes. The trade of war was 
to him unknown. And that systematical 
cruelty, which within a few years has deso- 
lated families, extirpated thousands from 
the earth, and immolated on its bloody 
shrine, the innocent mother, with her help- 
less children, was avoided by his mild and 
pacific temper, which was formed by a love 
of the religion of the Prince of Peace. 

• To benevolence so refined, he added 
that humility, without which, greatness 
loses half its charms. He was never act- 
uated by that pride, which would elevate 
him above those to whom his services were 
devoted. But viewing himself as one, who, 
with the rest was to partake of the sweets, 
for which they were mutually laboring, he 
considered no man, however low, as unde- 
serving of his notice. He possessed a 
dignity to which few could rise ; but in him, 
it was without any mixture of pride. It 
originated from the harmony of his mind, 
which gave order to all that he performed. 
A truly humble spirit is equally distant 



21 

from that arrogance, which can contemplate 
only its own merit ; and that meanness 
and pusillanimity, which dares not aspire 
to active virtue. In him it was an oper- 
ating principle, which appeared in all his 
behavior ; and gave to his character that 
mild but uniform lustre, which will con- 
tinue brilliant, when those, who in idea 
have embraced the subjugation of the 
world, shall be sunk in darkness. 

To a humble mind, he united an equa- 
nimity of temper, which enabled him to act 
with undeviating propriety. Amid the 
disorders of a tent, and the confusion of 
battle, his thoughts were composed, and 
his commands the result of meditation. 
The greatest warriors who have appeared, 
have stamped on their names an indelible 
disgrace, by submitting to those turbulent 
passions, which a trivial disappointment 
has occasioned. The biography of heroes, 
is generally a catalogue of crimes. They 
have legalized murder, to gratify some 
prevailing propensity. But in him, to 



22 

whom we are now directing your view, 
there was displayed an uninterrupted reg- 
ularity. He was calm in reflecting on every 
action, and unmoved in the hour of dan- 
ger. And, if we remember the difficulties 
through which he passed, the obstacles he 
was obliged to surmount, and the unwearied 
patience which he preserved, we shall with- 
out hesitancy, place his morality, among the 
most distinguished which has adorned the 
nature of man. 

Such were the virtues which appeared 
in his life ; and they originated from that 
pure source, from whence alone real worth 
can flow. Of this we have an undeniable 
testimony, in the legacy which, with pa- 
rental tenderness, he has bequeathed to 
us. Having there connected religion with 
morality, he has made them indispensable 
supports of political prosperity ; and ex- 
horted us not to indulge supposition, that 
one can be maintained without the other. 
Reason and experience join to convince us, 
that religion is the firmest cement of civil 



23 

government ; and they who would oppose 
this, are not merely the enemies of one 
state, or nation, but of mankind. The 
ancient law-givers, to ensure the success 
of their systems, added to them the author- 
ity of the gods : And the modern philos- 
ophy, which has been substituted for the 
doctrines and precepts of the gospel, pre- 
sents a melancholy instance of that de- 
pravity, to which those morals are always 
subject, which are not established by a 
sanction, higher than human resolution. 
Thus piety was a striking feature of his life. 
Without this, he might indeed have been 
a conqueror, and enrolled his name among 
the murderers of mankind. Without this, 
he might have attained fame and affluence. 
But his riches would then have been only 
new means of corruption, and his reputation 
serve but to extend the curses which would 
attend it. Instead of this, we behold him, 
equally an example of piety and patriotism. 
With a love of his country, which can be 
compared only to his love of goodness, he 
has reared a fabric, which will continue so 



24 

long as America is a nation ; and even 
when it is decaying with age ; when it yields 
to the ravages of time, will command aston- 
ishment, as magnificence in ruins. 

Few are capable of knowing the trials of 
exalted stations. There are many vices, 
which from our peculiar situations we are 
not able to commit ; but when invested 
with power, we have a cloak, under which 
they may be concealed from the sight of 
man. It is the greatest temptation which 
we have to withstand in the present life. 
A love of glory leads to excesses, which 
the ability of gratifying, too frequently 
affords a sufficient palliation for the great- 
est crimes. But in the whole progress, 
through which we trace the footsteps of 
him whom we would now commemorate, 
we can perceive no marks, which lead even 
to a suspicion of guilt. The malignity of 
envy has not been able to place a spot on 
his name. In him, we behold one, whom 
elevation could not bewilder, nor flattery 
deceive. Who received power, as intrusted 



25 

to him, for the advantage of those by whom 
it was bestowed ; and desired more their 
peculiar welfare, than his own aggrandize- 
ment. We deduce this from evidence the 
most incontrovertible ; it is from his con- 
duct ; and its truth is so strongly impressed 
on our minds, that a relation of it, precludes 
the necessity of proof. 

With a character so ennobled, we have 
been favored. We mention it, not to boast 
of his superiority, but to excite our grati- 
tude. Surely we cannot recur to the 
blessings, which Providence through him 
has granted, without feeling those lively 
emotions, which favors so signalized should 
demand. He was the pride of his friends, 
the glory of his country, and the wonder of 
the world. By his public virtues, he ac- 
quired the admiration both of Europe and 
America, and the most celebrated men of 
the age have sought the honor of present- 
ing their respects to him.* By his domestic 

* As an attestation of this, three evidences may be cited, 
which are indeed among the most signalized. Dr. Franklin in 



26 

qualities, he secured the affections of a 
family, whose happiness was interwoven 
with his own. He had all which could attach 
man to existence. His fame had extended 
as far as civilization, and his name was 
cherished, wherever virtue was loved. 
Hail sainted shade ! Thou now inhabitest 
a happier clime. We would view thee, as 
among the children of the blessed. We 
would congratulate thee on the possession 
of a crown, which will continue with undi- 
minished brightness, when the laurels of 
the present life shall fade, and be no longer 
a testimony of distinction. Thy name shall 
ever live in the memory of a grateful 
country, and thine actions be celebrated 

his will, bequeathed his gold-headed cane to General WASH- 
INGTON, accompanied with the remark, " If it were a sceptre, 
he would deserve it." He likewise received a sword from the 
King of Prussia, bearing the motto, " From the oldest, to the 
greatest General in the world." And from the Earl of Buchan, 
" a Box, made of the oak that sheltered the great Sir William 
Wallace after the battle of Falkirk. This box was presented to 
the Earl, by the Goldsmiths' company at Edinburgh; but feel- 
ing his unworthiness to receive this magnificently significant 
present, obtained leave to make it over to the man in the world, 
to whom he thought it most justly due." 



27 

with increasing honors. We bid thee fare- 
well. 

On this occasion, we would sympathize 
with the unhappy widow, who peculiarly 
experiences the severity of this divine 
dispensation ; and with the most sincere 
affection, would commend her to him, to 
whose presence, we trust, the disembodied 
spirit of her husband has now ascended. 

To the officers and soldiers of our armies, 
we would offer him as an example through 
every part of his life. We would demon- 
strate from his actions, that religion is not 
incompatible with valor ; and urge them 
to cultivate his virtues, as they would 
attain his greatness. 

To all classes of men, we would recom- 
mend an obedience to the principles which 
he has presented, as the best method of 
testifying their sorrow for his loss ; or 
rather, to yield an observance to his in- 
junctions, whom WASHINGTON rejoiced 
to obey. We have been deprived of one, 



28 

on whom our reliance was placed without 
reserve. Let us endeavor as far as pos- 
sible to repair this loss, by reposing the 
same confidence in ADAMS, his illustrious 
successor. 

It is worthy of remark, that in seventeen 
hundred and seventy-six, WASHINGTON 
was intrusted with a dictatorial power. If 
ambition had been his favorite passion, he 
might now have satiated his appetite. It 
may likewise be remembered, that at the 
close of the war, when the armies were 
disbanded and unpaid, that anonymous 
and inflammatory papers were circulated, 
to persuade the soldiers to rise, and to 
acquire by force, that redress, which it was 
not in the power of Government to bestow. 
At this time also, he might have taken the 
reins of empire, and made himself the 
monarch of our nation. But he quelled 
the tumult by his eloquence, and allayed 
those disordered feelings, which were ready 
to burst on the country just rescued from 
oppression. The better to display his 



2 9 

merits in this respect, we might contrast 
him with the late invader of Egypt. We 
might oppose that disposition, which pre- 
ferred the good of others, to his own fame ; 
to that temper which stimulates man to 
hesitate at no sacrifice for the accomplish- 
ment of his object, and to consider power 
as an excuse for every crime, which the 
aspiring mind may dictate. 

Attend, then, Warriors, Statesmen, Cit- 
izens ! and behold one worthy of your 
imitation. Equally to be admired in peace 
and war ; equally able to command and to 
obey. Governed by those eternal prin- 
ciples, which proceeded from the source of 
truth, he had learned to conquer himself, 
before he attempted to subdue others. He 
whose military character will form a new 
epoch in the pages of history ; whose wis- 
dom in design, and prudence in action, 
will vie with the united sagacity of the 
most celebrated heroes, was a votary of 
religion. While therefore we indulge the 
language of grief; while with drooping 



30 

hearts and dejected countenances, we pause 
at a remembrance of the loss we have sus- 
tained, let us raise our eyes to heaven ; and 
recurring to the blessings of which he is 
participating, anticipate the time when we 
may dwell with him forever. 



FINIS. 



SEVEN DISCOURSES 



ON 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 



SEVEN DISCOURSES 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 



BY J. TUCKERMAN, A. M. 



BOSTON : 

PUBLISHED BY MUNROE AND FRANCIS, 

At the Shakspeare Bookstore, No. 4 Cornhill. 

1813. 



CONTENTS. 



1. The happiness of a life of virtue. 

2. The slavery and debasement of a life of vice. 

3. The duty of working out our own salvation illustrated and 
enforced. 

4. The Christian summary of social morality. 

5. The evils which are involved in imprudent and unjust 
debts. 

6. The forgiveness of injuries. 

7. The obligations and benefits of the Christian sabbath. 



DISCOURSE I. 



ISAIAH iii. 10. 

Say ye to the righteous, it shall be well with him, for 
the reward of his hands shall be given him. 

In what consists the chief good of man? 
This is an inquiry which all should be able 
readily to answer. It is an inquiry which 
should early be proposed to every one, and 
on which every parent should assist his 
children to form the most correct senti- 
ments, before their entrance into the world. 
By the ideas which we form of the chief 
good of life, not only our earliest tastes, 
affections, and pursuits are biassed, but our 
characters in this world are determined, 
and our conditions in the future. 



38 

In what then consists the chief good of 
life ? and what are the means of attaining 
it? We all agree, my brethren, in the 
general definition, that happiness is the 
best good of man. But what is happiness ? 
This too is an inquiry, which every one 
should be able to answer ; but I believe, 
on no subject are opinions more vague 
and indeterminate. Often, when we pro- 
fess to be happy, we know not why we are 
so ; and when we can give a reason for it, 
it is often surprising to all but ourselves, 
that such a cause should be productive of 
such an effect. But are those emotions of 
momentary pleasure, which may be re- 
pressed as easily as they were excited, 
which are as variable as our bodily sensa- 
tions, and which may be made the sport of 
every passion, worthy of the name of hap- 
piness? Can these be the best good of 
man ? Have the insatiable desires which 
every one experiences, no higher means of 
gratification ? Are there no satisfactions, 
in their own nature more complete, more 
permanent ? It does not require a labor- 



39 

ious investigation of the faculties and 
capacities of man, to learn that it was the 
intention of our Creator that we should 
seek and possess a happiness, far more 
elevated and durable. What then is this 
happiness? Are we to seek it within, or 
without us? Does it belong to the mind, 
or to the body ? We all consider health as 
an inestimable blessing ; yet neither we, 
nor those about us, are happy in propor- 
tion to our health. Property too is a good 
which all are seeking, and for which all 
are solicitous. Yet it is certain, that wealth 
alone will not render us happy. It is ob- 
vious, that some of the most affluent are 
the most miserable of men. A vigorous 
understanding is desirable. But how often 
is it accompanied with appetites and pas- 
sions, destructive of order and peace ? We 
admire the works of a luxuriant and culti- 
vated imagination, and some are ready to 
envy its possessor, supposing that he must 
surely be happy, who is capable of exciting 
such sensations in others. But fancy exerts 
its creative power, as frequently in pro- 



40 

ducing wretchedness as pleasure. Shall 
we then seek for happiness in fame ? This 
is indeed a good which all highly estimate. 
Sweet to every ear is the voice of praise, 
and most grateful to all would be the con- 
viction, that their memories would be cher- 
ished, when they had themselves left the 
world. But will the applause of the world 
repress the passions, which impel to ex- 
cesses, and prey upon the peace of the 
mind ? Will they silence the reproaches 
of conscience, and inspire confidence in 
death ? — Or may we hope to obtain it in 
the indulgence of the senses ? The eye is 
not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with 
hearing. And do you think that the epi- 
cure, the lascivious, the intemperate man 
is happy ? Alas ! show me one who, in 
either of these courses, has found that 
happiness which the rational, the immortal 
soul demands, and I will submit to his 
guidance ; I will follow him in every step 
of his successful pursuit. But where is he? 
I know him not. But who does not know, 
that each of these paths has conducted 



4i 

thousands to disease, to unutterable an- 
guish, and to premature death ? Must all 
our inquiries then be vain ? Is happiness 
but a phantom, which mocks alike our 
solicitations and our labours ? Are we 
mistaken in the sentiment which we have 
so fondly cherished, that there is a good, 
in the possession of which the mind does 
not anxiously crave anything beyond it ? 
No, my friends. God does not thus sport 
with his creatures. The insects, the birds, 
the beasts, apparently at least, enjoy all of 
which they are capable. Why then are 
the enjoyments of man so far below the 
standard of his capacities ? The reason is 
plain. We seek happiness in objects which 
were not designed to confer it. We attach 
our strongest affections to pursuits and 
gratifications, which involve disappoint- 
ment and wretchedness. Where then is 
the seat of happiness ? I answer, in the 
heart. And what are the means of attain- 
ing it ? I reply, a life of obedience to the 
will of God. Every act of virtue, per- 
formed from a principle of obedience to 
6 



42 

the will of God, is a means of happiness. 
This principle is indeed the very soul of 
virtue, which is subject to none of the 
changes of the world, and is a perennial 
source of the purest pleasure. This is the 
truth, my brethren, which I would illus- 
trate ; and in what subject can any feel a 
deeper interest ? All would be happy. 
All may be happy, who will live devoted 
to the will of God. 

The object of this discourse is to shew, 
i., that virtue is the best good of this life, 
because it secures the greatest happiness ; 
and 2dly, if it did not secure the greatest 
happiness of this life, it would be infinitely 
the best good of man, because it involves 
the greatest, the eternal happiness of the 
future. "Say ye to the righteous, it shall 
be well with him ; for the reward of his 
hands shall be given him. ,, 

i. Virtue is the best good of man, be- 
cause it secures in this world his greatest 
happiness. By virtue I do not mean that 
limited and partial principle, which em- 
braces only a few of our personal and 



43 

social duties. "An action, to be really- 
virtuous, must flow from an internal prin- 
ciple, which is adapted to produce an 
uniform and a regular good conduct." 
This principle is the love of God, that first 
and great commandment of the gospel. 
"It is religion alone which, by uniting 
duty and happiness, can forever bind self- 
love to the interest of virtue. " There is 
no true virtue distinct from religion, and 
there is no religion distinct from virtue. 
In the love of God alone, originates the 
proper love of ourselves, and that love of 
one another which is the end, or com- 
pletion of the commandment. With these 
sentiments of virtue, I will endeavour to 
demonstrate by its present effects, that it 
is the best good which can be sought in 
this world. 

In the first place then I observe, that 
virtue points us to an object, infinitely 
worthy of our best affections and efforts ; 
to the pursuit of which we are guided by 
unerring principles, and in which we are 
certain that success will be the reward of 



44 

perseverance. This object is the favour 
of God ; the approbation of Him, whose 
power can satisfy our most extensive de- 
sires, and whose goodness, like his power, 
is infinite. 

What can be of equal worth with the 
approbation of God ; the favour of the 
Creator and Governour of the world ; the 
greatest and the best of Beings ? We 
value the esteem of men. It gives us a 
rank in society which we desire; it grati- 
fies our self-love. But the consciousness 
of the approbation of God elevates us 
infinitely above the most exalted condition 
of this life. It awakens the ineffable satis- 
faction of feeling, that we are spiritually 
his children. In loving God supremely, 
our affections are exposed to no fluctua- 
tions, for his character in unchangeable ; 
they are exposed to no disappointment, 
for he cannot deceive us. Every action to 
which we are prompted by the love of 
God, is a part of that service which he 
requires ; and our duties, as individuals, 
as social beings, as dependents on the 



45 

providence, and subjects of the govern- 
ment of God, are so plain, and so admir- 
ably adapted to every exigence of life, that 
an ingenuous mind cannot mistake them, 
nor will any thing be left for him to regret, 
by whom they are practised. In every 
other pursuit, we are liable to be mortified 
by unsuccessful endeavours, though all 
our skill be exerted to prevent it ; but 
God beholds with favour even a desire, if 
it be sincere, of conforming to his will. 
He admits him who feels this desire to all 
the happiness and all the benefits of the 
most intimate intercourse, as a means of 
cherishing and strengthening it, and of 
securing its accomplishment. In this single 
view of its influence, is not virtue then 
conducive to the best happiness of this 
life ? To be loved by God ; to be assured 
that he hears our prayers ; that all the 
events of his government are ordered by 
infinite wisdom and goodness, and that 
every action, performed with a design of 
pleasing him, is observed and accepted ; — 
these surely are compensations for afflic- 



46 

tion, which should repress every doubt, and 
silence every murmur; they are sources of 
gratification pure and inexhaustible. The 
approbation of those whom we reverence 
and love is alone a reward of every priva- 
tion and toil. It makes us rich in poverty; 
and is as a shield to our peace against all 
the slanders of the wicked. If virtue, then, 
obtained for us no other good than the 
approbation of God, the certainty that he 
beholds us with affection, it would be our 
best possession, because it renders us most 
independent of the world ; independent 
even of the good opinion of the virtuous, 
who may misinterpret our best motives, 
and join with the vicious in condemning 
our best intended actions. It is a perfect 
security, that, whatever occurs, is precisely 
what we should ourselves have chosen, 
could we have discerned all the purposes 
of God. Can any happiness be more ra- 
tional, more stable, more desirable ? 

2dly. Virtue secures our greatest hap- 
piness, by repressing the appetites and 
passions which occasion misery. Avarice, 



47 

envy, jealousy, resentment, pride, vanity, 
intemperance and lust, are tyrants which 
corrupt the affections of the wicked, per- 
vert their understandings, and enslave their 
wills. This is the language of the New 
Testament. " Whosoever committeth sin," 
says the Saviour, "is the servant of sin;" 
and " to whom ye yield yourselves servants 
to obey/' says the apostle, " his servants ye 
are whom ye obey." Hence, said Jesus at 
the commencement of his ministry, "I am 
come to set at liberty them that are bound ;" 
and, again, " if the son shall make you free, 
ye shall be free indeed. " Is liberty a bless- 
ing? Behold in it, then, my brethren, one 
of the rewards of virtue. By the practice 
of virtue we are emancipated from the 
most ignoble bondage ; from a bondage, 
compared with which, the most cruel sla- 
very of the body is an inconsiderable evil. 
In the subjection of these despotick appe- 
tites and passions, consists the first triumph 
of virtue ; and their conquest represses a 
thousand wants, and preserves us from the 
anguish of ten thousand sorrows. 



4 8 

Is it objected, that the subjugation of 
these appetites and passions is at best but 
a deliverance from many troubles, and not 
a means of certain happiness ? Look at 
that avaricious being, who loves not even 
his soul so much as his wealth ; who is at 
the same time tormented with desire to 
augment his useless stores, and agonized 
with fears, lest the inconstant elements, or 
the perfidy of man, should strip him of 
what he possesses. Would not a mere 
exemption from these sufferings be pur- 
chased cheaply, at the expence of all his 
wealth ? Behold that man, whose mind 
and heart are corroded with envy ! The 
superior wisdom of another, or his greater 
fortunes or influence, or even his more 
elevated virtues, make him an object of 
hatred. The envious man cannot think of 
his rival, without feeling at the same time 
the influence of every malignant desire ; 
he cannot hear him praised; without un- 
utterable suffering. Will you then call 
exemption from the power of this passion 
an inconsiderable good ? Is not the man 



49 

advanced far towards happiness, who is 
relieved from so much misery ? — See that 
man whose soul is harassed with suspi- 
cions ! He dashes from his lips the cup 
which is presented by the hand of friend- 
ship, which might quiet his agitations, and 
warm his heart with benevolence, and 
seizes with eagerness, and drinks to the 
very dregs, the draught which will extend 
the most subtle poison to every portion of 
his frame. — Behold the slave of revenge ! 
To gratify his insatiate passion, how many 
miseries will he sustain ; to how many 
dangers will he expose himself? Nor is 
he for a moment certain, that some new 
work is not preparing for him, by the 
inflexible tyrant whom he serves. — See 
the proud man, daily fretted with innu- 
merable disappointments ; alternately con- 
temning and hating those about him, and 
in his turn, hated and despised by those, 
on whom he is necessarily dependent ; a 
prey to cares which he cannot repress, and 
impelled to excesses, the destructive in- 
fluence of which no exertions can repair. 
7 



50 

— Behold the vain man, like the gaudy 
insect, glittering for a moment in the sun, 
and then by a breath of wind stripped of 
his wings, creeping unnoticed, or despised 
upon the ground. — Behold the slave of 
intemperance ! Till he receives the portion 
which enfeebles and deranges his powers, 
and deadens his sensibility, he is wretched ; 
and having recovered from its influence, 
he is the sport of every debasing passion, 
till he is again insensible. — See the poor 
abandoned servant of impure lusts ! His 
pleasures are momentary ; but not so are 
his pains. Disease infects his body, and 
remorse, with its sharpest stings, pierces 
his mind. — Yet each of these unhappy 
beings blindly follows the impulse of the 
passion or appetite to which he has sur- 
rendered himself. Hence, my brethren, 
far the greatest portion of the murmurs 
which assail our ears ; far the greatest part 
of that debasement and distress, which we 
daily see in our intercourse with the world. 
In reducing these passions to obedience to 
its dictates, from how much misery does 



5i 

virtue defend us ? But for the influence 
of these appetites and passions, how many 
do we know, who might daily enjoy all 
which the world could give them ? It 
is the office of virtue to scourge these 
tyrants into subjection ; and it is one of 
the distinguishing privileges of a good 
man, that he is delivered from their do- 
minion. Does not virtue then promote 
the happiness of this life, far more than it 
could be advanced, even by the attainment 
of all the objects, to which these appetites 
and passions impel us ? The happiness of 
virtue, compared with that of vice, is the 
happiness of freedom compared with that 
of slavery ; it is the happiness of inde- 
pendence, compared with that of want. 
This is the second illustration of our text. 
"Say ye to the righteous, it shall be well 
with him/' No evil propensity shall prey 
upon his peace. He shall be free to follow 
the guidance of the virtue which he loves ; 
and in conforming to its dictates, he shall 
receive his reward. 



52 

3. Virtue secures an approving con- 
science. In the conviction of the appro- 
bation of God, and in the possession of 
well balanced passions and well governed 
appetites, what has man to want or to fear ? 
The happiness which a rational and ac- 
countable being should pursue, and which 
alone is worthy of his exalted nature, 
is the happiness of feeling that he has 
accomplished, or is pursuing the object, 
for which he received his existence and 
faculties ; that he has faithfully discharged 
the duties, which grow out of his condition 
and his various relations. Such a man 
recurs to the past without remorse, and 
looks to the future without apprehension. 
His happiness is a column, resting on the 
word of God ; and which every action of 
piety and virtue which he has performed, 
has at once augmented and strengthened. 
— The spirit of a good man may support 
his infirmities. Under all the trials of 
human life, he has a refuge within his own 
breast, to which no assailants from without 
can penetrate. In that self- approbation 



53 

which is sanctioned by the word of God, 
he can securely and tranquilly hear the 
storm which rages around him, satisfied 
that, while the world is governed by a 
being of infinite justice and goodness, not 
his safety only, but his peace is certain. 
But a wounded spirit ; a condemning con- 
science ; a mind aware of its guilt, too 
irresolute to reform, and anticipating the 
threatened judgments of the Almighty; a 
conscience tortured with remembrance, and 
dreading reflection, who can bear? Who, 
for the miserable gratifications of vice, 
would deliberately consent to endure this 
accumulation of horrors ? Who, in the calm 
moment of serious consideration, would 
not forego every other possession and 
pleasure, for a conscience void of offence 
toward God and man ? This, likewise, 
my friends, is the rich reward of virtue. 
It is a happiness which belongs only to the 
virtuous. "The wicked is like the troubled 
sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters 
throw up mire and dirt/' "There is no 
peace to the wicked, saith my God." 



54 

4thly. Virtue is also favourable to the 
acquisition of riches. Do not think, my 
brethren, that I wish to support the absurd 
sentiment, that the virtuous are always 
successful in the pursuit of the interests of 
this world ; and that, because a man is 
rich, he is therefore virtuous. No. Thou- 
sands of the best disciples of Christ, like 
their master, are poor. But it is a general 
truth, that success is the reward of up- 
rightness ; and though many prosper by 
knavery, that the dishonest and cunning 
are ensnared by their own projects, and 
are often ruined by the means which they 
have devised for the destruction of others. 
In the virtuous we may repose implicit 
confidence ; and when they are known, they 
receive the patronage and support of the 
upright. And to an honest man, how 
valuable are his gains ! He has obtained 
no part of them by the sacrifice of a prin- 
ciple. No one accuses him in the court of 
his own conscience ; no one can accuse 
him at the throne of God. If he be rich 
then, riches are to him means of happiness, 



55 

for they are means of doing good. But, 
my brethren, should a good man be un- 
fortunate, he has the high consolation of 
reflecting that his misfortunes were not 
occasioned by his crimes. If he be poor, 
he has 07ily the burden oipovei'ty to sustain, 
which is light as the dust of the balance, 
when compared with the oppressive, the 
intolerable weight of a guilty conscience. 
If virtue does not confer wealth, it bestows 
that which is of infinitely greater worth, 
the ability and disposition cheerfully to 
sustain the privations of poverty ; and he 
who has maintained his integrity, though 
he have lost all beside, has a treasure, 
which he who knows its worth, would not 
barter for the world. Will you then, for 
any of the gifts of fortune, exchange this 
happiness ? Be not deceived. I have seen 
the wicked in great prosperity, and spread- 
ing himself like a green bay tree ; but he 
passed away, and lo he was not ; I sought 
him, but he could not be found. But mark 
the perfect man, and behold the upright ! 
whether he be rich, or whether he be poor, 



56 

he is blessed. His wants are conformed 
to his circumstances. No turbulent and 
craving passions disturb his repose, and 
restrain him from the discharge of duties. 
In his pursuits, whatever they are, he is 
cheerful ; and his gains, however small, are 
enjoyed with gratitude. Do you desire 
this happiness ? Be virtuous. 

5. "A good name," says the wise man, 
"is better than precious ointment ;" but 
the consciousness of deserving it is still 
better than its possession. We naturally 
desire the esteem of those about us ; but a 
permanent respect and affection can be 
obtained only by virtue, which generally 
commands deference, even from the aban- 
doned. Virtue, indeed, does not always 
insure an unsullied reputation. It is the 
mark at which the vicious most delight to 
direct the arrows of slander. But what is 
the reputation which will render us happy ? 
Not the noisy applause of an ignorant 
multitude. Not the flattery of those who 
are interested to praise us. But the esti- 
mation of good men. The approbation 



57 

which is induced by a knowledge of our 
principles, motives, and conduct. Other 
esteem than this a good man would reject 
as unworthy of him, and this a good man 
alone possesses. He is honoured by those 
whom he honours ; who love virtue, and 
who practise it. This is a source of ra- 
tional pleasure. It is alone a compensa- 
tion for all the calumnies of the world. 
But suppose a man of real virtue to be- 
come an object of general jealousy and 
detraction. Think you that the loss, even 
of the esteem of the wise and good, is the 
loss of happiness ? No. The virtue which 
deserves commendation, is an adequate 
support under every pressure of obloquy. 
He knows that the cloud which envelops 
him will soon be dissipated ; and like the 
sun, which, after the obscurity of a few 
days, is hailed with redoubled gladness, 
his darkened reputation will emerge with 
apparently increased brightness, and among 
the virtuous, will diffuse increased joy and 
confidence. It is the happiness of a good 
man, that he fears not to be known. He 
8 



58 

has worn no disguise. He has practised 
no artifices. He dreads no scrutiny. Is 
not reputation, thus obtained, thus sup- 
ported, conducive to happiness ? I pity 
the man who views it with indifference. 
He must be as dead to real happiness, as 
he is to virtue. 

6. One of the most delightful objects 
of the anticipation of the young is the in- 
terchange of affection in domestick life. 
To the conjugal and parental relations, to 
a home which we may peculiarly call our 
own, all look forward with sanguine ex- 
pectations. But are these relations always 
productive of happiness ? Are there no 
murmurs of discontent, no exclamations 
of vehement passion, which ever strike the 
ear in these retreats from the cares and 
troubles of the world ? Alas ! Ascend a 
rising ground, and look upon the dwell- 
ings which it exhibits. But even this effort 
is not necessary to discover the habitations 
of men, where the sweet influence of af- 
fection and peace is unknown. But whence 
all this discord, turbulence, and misery? 



59 

Whence this mortifying and distressing 
disappointment of the most sanguine and 
happy expectations ? Is it not the natural 
and necessary influence of vice ? Is it not 
the effect of vitiated appetites and ungov- 
erned passions ? It is not necessary then ; 
it is not unavoidable. To be happy in our 
domestick relations, we have but to be 
virtuous. Let these passions be repressed, 
let these appetites be subdued, let the 
personal, social, and pious duties be faith- 
fully performed, and every reasonable an- 
ticipation will be realized. A husband and 
wife united by the pure affections which 
Christianity inculcates, rearing their child- 
ren in the love of God and the practice of 
virtue, often enjoy all of which man is 
capable in this world ; and in every afflic- 
tion have a solace, which divests it of more 
than half its poignancy. The serenity of 
mind with which virtue inspires a good 
man, the gratitude, the benevolence, the 
forbearance, the integrity, the resignation 
which mark his conversation and conduct, 
extend their efficacy to all about him. 



6o 

Whatever be his condition, in his home he 
is happy ; and what trials, what sufferings 
may not be cheerfully sustained in our 
commerce with the world, while virtue 
receives its encouragement and reward, 
in the improvement, the warm affections, 
and the uncorrupted happiness of those 
who are most interested in us, and whom 
we most tenderly love ? 

7. I will suggest to you, my brethren, 
but one more proof, that virtue is the best 
good of this life, because it secures the 
greatest happiness ; — It prepares us for 
death. It prepares us not only to meet 
dissolution, but to anticipate it with com- 
posure, and with hope. This is a general 
truth. That there are exceptions, that 
many of the most pious look to the end of 
life with most distressful apprehensions, is 
readily admitted. Nor have I reserved 
this argument to the last, because it is the 
most important. The future condition of 
man is to be determined, not by the man- 
ner in which he dies, but by the manner 
in which he lives. But there are seasons 



6i 

in the life of every man, when the thought 
of death obtrudes itself too forcibly to be 
resisted ; and to be able to retain and to 
cherish it, with a conviction that it will 
bring us to judgment, and to eternity, it is 
necessary to elevate and to strengthen the 
mind and heart, by an habitual application 
of the principles of virtue. This and this 
only will enable us to view its approaches, 
and to anticipate its consequences, with 
humble confidence. There is indeed no 
virtue so entire in this world, as to be 
wholly unmixed with evil ; and no one who 
can claim any thing of God. But even to 
the imperfect virtue of those who seek 
their happiness in his service, are all the 
promises of the gospel addressed ; and 
under every change of condition may the 
good look to death, not only for exemption 
from suffering, but with the conviction that 
they must be happy, in the disposal of a 
Being of infinite and eternal holiness. 
From how many hours of anguish does 
this conviction and the hopes which it 
awakens, preserve them ? They may view 



62 

every season of sickness as perhaps the 
last stage of a journey, which will bring 
them to the home which they love ; to the 
friends who have gone before them ; to 
innumerable holy spirits ; to the Saviour ; 
to God. Is not virtue then, in all its con- 
sequences, supremely lovely and desirable? 
It guards us from unnumbered ills. It 
enables us cheerfully to support all from 
which it does not defend us. It represses 
even the fear of death. These, my breth- 
ren, are some of our motives to its practice. 
But let us, for a moment, suppose that 
virtue, or religion did not secure to us the 
happiness of this life ; that there was uni- 
formly in this world, one event to him that 
served God, and to him that served him 
not ; — let us suppose, that virtue was even 
more depressed and afflicted than vice, and 
that, in proportion to our moral and reli- 
gious attainments, our sufferings were con- 
tinually augmented. Still would virtue be 
infinitely our greatest good ; the object 
deserving of all our affections and labours; 
an adequate compensation for every trial 



63 

and distress in which it might involve us ; 
for virtue is immortal ; it will be followed 
by eternal happiness in the life which 
awaits us. Here then is an inexhaustible 
source of motives to its exercise. The 
moment of death, to a good man, is the 
commencement of eternal and of unalloyed 
enjoyment. Death forever terminates his 
cares, his pains, his toils, his sorrows. The 
happiness of the wicked, however great, 
lasts no longer than their life in this world. 
To them, death is the commencement of 
unutterable wo. But in the eternity which 
awaits the good, no interruption of their 
joys will be known. And what is eternity ? 
What is eternal happiness ? — Add millions 
to millions, till all the powers of your mind 
are exhausted by calculations ; and you 
are still at an infinite distance. Suppose 
this earth, and all the mighty systems of 
worlds were brought into one mass ; and 
from this pile of inconceivable greatness, 
one little particle of sand only should be 
taken in the revolution of hundreds of 
millions of years. What would be the 



6 4 

term of time required for the removal of 
the whole ? What in comparison with 
eternity? An instant. Nothing. Eternity 
still remains unchanged ; and the happi- 
ness of the good unabated. Are such the 
rewards of virtue ? O my God ! who then 
can be vicious ? 

In persuading you then to a religious 
life, we consult, my friends, your highest 
interests, your greatest happiness. To be 
virtuous, is to walk in all the commands 
and ordinances of the Lord blameless ; and 
these are the excitements by which the 
Spirit of God is striving with us, to main- 
tain a life unspotted by the world. O be 
not inconsiderate, I pray you, of motives 
so powerful. In the pursuits of virtue, 
even in this world, you will have peace ; 
a peace surpassing the imagination of the 
wicked ; and they will conduct you to in- 
terminable bliss. When you know the will 
of God, delay not then to perform it. His 
will is the foundation of virtue, and his 
eternal favour its reward. Receive Him 
then, my brethren, with all gratitude, who 



65 

is the way, the truth, and the life ; the only 
saviour of sinners. Study his gospel with 
devotion and diligence, and seek, through 
him, the illumination and guidance of the 
spirit of God. Then will it be well with 
you. Well in your consciences, and well 
in your families. Well in all the commerce 
of the world ; well in all your misfortunes 
and sufferings ; well in death ; and well in 
eternity. 



DISCOURSE II. 



JOHN viii. 34. 
Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant of sin. 

THIS truth is simple and obvious. The 
ancient philosophers taught their disciples, 
that a man was the slave of the lust which 
he obeyed. It is a truth which is recog- 
nized by us in our daily conversations ; and 
if it obtained the influence which it de- 
mands, its effects would be most important 
on our virtue and happiness. But we 
acknowledge the bondage of sin, and we 
submit to it. We do more. We deliber- 
ately load ourselves with its chains. There 



6 7 

are even some who devote the best ener- 
gies of their minds and bodies, to the 
security of their own condemnation. 

There is not indeed, my brethren, a just 
man upon earth, who doeth good and 
sinneth not. But though the most vir- 
tuous may, and do sin, they indulge in no 
habitual transgression of the law of God. 
By the remembrance of their offences they 
are penetrated with shame, and impelled 
to the throne of God to sue for pardon, 
and the grace which they need to guide, 
to guard and to comfort them. The terms 
righteous and unjust, good and wicked, 
saint and sinner, are relative. He is right- 
eous, he is good, he is recognized as a 
saint in the gospel, who habitually acknowl- 
edges God, and endeavours to conform his 
temper and life to the divine will ; who 
struggles against his vicious propensities, 
and seeks the assistance of the word and 
spirit of God to subdue them ; who exer- 
cises and cherishes his benevolent and 
pious affections, who is deeply humble 
and penitent for his offences, and who 



68 

lives with a daily reference to his account- 
ability, and his eternal destiny. He is 
unjust, he is wicked, he is a sinner, who 
lives without God ; who violates his laws 
without repentance ; who seeks his happi- 
ness in the indulgence of passions, of 
affections, and of appetites, which the 
divine laws require him to deny ; on whom 
the means of religion are inefficacious, and 
who is inconsiderate of the account which 
he must render, and the sentence which 
awaits him. Vice indeed has its degrees, 
as well as virtue ; and it may be as difficult 
to name a man so depraved, that he has 
not one sentiment or affection which we 
could approve, as one who has never 
transgressed any law, nor omitted any 
duty. But very different, in the sight of 
God, is a man of this imperfect, but sincere 
piety and virtue, from him who cherishes 
passions and indulges habits, which he 
knows are forbidden in the gospel, and to 
which are attached its solemn denuncia- 
tions ; who repeats iniquitous practices 
without remorse, or if remorse be excited, 



6 9 

represses it, by plunging more deeply into 
evil indulgences ; who sacrifices to vicious 
gratifications, not only the best pleasures 
of this life, but all the hopes and the fears 
of the future. This habitual sinner is in 
the most debased condition of man. It is 
to him that the Saviour refers when he 
says, whosoever committeth sin, is the ser- 
vant of sin. He is not less submissive to 
his corrupt propensities, than is the most 
abject slave to the most despotick of 
masters. 

i. Sin enslaves the understanding. "The 
understanding is the faculty of the soul, by 
which we assent to propositions, or dissent 
from them.''* Truth and falsehood, vice 
and virtue, order and confusion, are not 
arbitrary terms ; but are as distinct as light 
from darkness, and the distinction is as 
clearly discerned by an unvitiated mind. 
But this distinction is not obvious to a 
sinner ; for by his love and practice of 
vice, his understanding either becomes too 
enervated for exertion, or so perverted as 

* Hartley on man, vol. I, p. 3. 



70 

to blend the most contradictory principles. 
Is not he, then, that committeth sin, the 
servant of sin ? 

It is an immediate tendency of some 
vices, so to enervate the understanding, as 
to indispose or disqualify it for the exer- 
tions which are requisite, to distinguish 
truth from falsehood, and vice from virtue. 
Of this number is intemperance. There 
are men, who feel anxiety for no higher 
object, than what they shall eat or what 
they shall drink ; whose thoughts and 
affections are as completely absorbed in 
the gratification of these appetites, as if 
this was the highest object of their being. 
For this they labour. For this they value 
their possessions ; to this they devote their 
time, and by it are their hopes and their 
fears most powerfully excited. Can any 
dominion be more entire? But a small 
portion of time is indeed given to the 
actual indulgence of these appetites. They 
are satiated in a few moments ; but the 
effects which they produce are not mo- 
mentary nor inconsiderable. The very 



7i 

delight with which this indulgence is antic- 
ipated, debases the noblest powers of the 
mind ; and in a moment it reduces the 
most vigorous understanding, to worse 
than infantile weakness. The epicure rises 
from his luxurious repast, and the glutton 
returns from his excesses, not to engage 
in pursuits which demand a vigorous in- 
tellect, but either to relieve the wearied 
system by sleep, or to dissipate by some 
amusement the dull and heavy hours which 
must intervene, before the cloyed appe- 
tites will again demand their accustomed 
gratification. The drunkard daily suffers 
a temporary derangement. From the mo- 
ment in which he receives the intoxicating 
draught, till the relaxed frame regains its 
vigour by repose, the authority of reason 
is lost ; and when he awakes from a sleep, 
in which he has been as insensible as the 
bed or the earth on which he lay, or dis- 
turbed by a thousand horrid images, ex- 
hibited to his bewildered imagination, how 
can he apply his mind to the labour of 
thought ? The severe exercises of the 



72 

understanding, for which they are always 
prepared, whose appetites are subjected to 
the dominion of reason and religion, to the 
intemperate, become at first so laborious, 
that in the fatigue which they occasion, an 
excuse is found for omitting them ; and 
being for a short time neglected, this noble 
faculty is roused within them with scarcely 
less difficulty, than their bodies are excited 
to activity, when debilitated and diseased 
by the excesses to which they have been 
habituated. The instances are rare, and 
blessed be God that they are not more 
numerous, in which the power of reason 
is completely destroyed by the tyranny of 
the appetites ; but who is ignorant of ex- 
amples of their influence in enfeebling the 
understanding, and indisposing, or even 
disqualifying it, correctly to distinguish 
truth from errour, and vice from virtue ? 
Who has not felt on his own reason, at 
some period of his life, the enfeebling in- 
fluence of animal indulgence ? Is not then 
the understanding of the epicure, the 
glutton, and the drunkard, enslaved by the 



73 

lusts which they obey ? The very excuses 
by which they palliate their guilt, evince 
the degraded state of that faculty, which, 
if freed from the restraints which they 
have imposed on it, would instantly con- 
vince them of their errour, their crime, and 
their misery. They cannot reason, or they 
reason, only as slaves serve the master 
whose will they dare not disobey. They 
attach their thoughts to few objects, which 
have not the most intimate connexion with 
their favourite gratifications. Thus is the 
understanding of him that committeth sin, 
the servant of sin. Thus are verified the 
words of the apostle, " of whom or of what- 
soever a man is overcome, of the same he 
is brought in bondage/' 

Not less debilitating and debasing to 
the intellectual powers, are the pleasures 
of the epicure, the glutton, and the drunk- 
ard, than the gross and impure indulgences 
of the lascivious. Their minds partake of 
the relaxedness and pollution of their 
bodies. The excuses which they would 
once have alleged only to palliate their 

IO 



74 

guilt, are soon adduced as arguments to 
justify the gratification of their bestial lusts ; 
and they persuade themselves that they 
violate no law either of nature or reason, 
while every faculty of the mind is immersed 
in sensuality, and they degrade their im- 
mortal natures to a level with those of 
beasts which perish. Do not such ex- 
amples forcibly illustrate the principle in 
our text, " He that committeth sin is the 
servant of sin ?" Is not that man in the 
most miserable state of slavery, whose 
mind, enfeebled by sensual indulgence, 
sees no loveliness in virtue, and no pollu- 
tion in impurity ; who lives only to gratify 
the most ignoble desires of his nature ; 
whose only standard of right and wrong is 
the immediate pleasure or pain of which 
an action will be productive, and who to 
his lusts sacrifices all those noble capacities, 
which would qualify him for a state of per- 
fect intelligence and holiness ? 

As by some vices, the understanding is 
too debilitated to judge correctly, by others 
it is equally perverted. Foremost in the 



75 

list of these vices are pride, worldly 
ambition, avarice, envy, jealousy, and re- 
sentment. These evil passions are not 
inconsistent with a vigorous exercise of 
the mind. They actuate many, whose 
understandings qualify them for the pur- 
suit of the sublimest truth and the pro- 
motion of the most useful knowledge. 
But approach them nearly, and observe 
them in the exercise of their intellectual 
powers, and "you will be convinced that 
these powers are enslaved ; you will have 
new proof, that whosoever committeth sin, 
is the servant of sin ; that by whom or by 
whatsoever the faculties of the mind are 
overcome, of the same they are brought in 
bondage. 

Pride is a fashionable vice. It is digni- 
fied with the epithets of honotirable and 
laudable. But what is pride ? It is self- 
complacency, derived from a consciousness 
of being superiour to other men. It is a 
passion, which awakens equal contempt of 
others, as it produces of satisfaction with 
ourselves ; and to retain its influence, it 



7 6 

either conceals the excellencies of others 
beneath an impenetrable shade, or distorts 
them, or so magnifies its own, as to render 
all others undeserving of notice. Can a 
man in the full possession of the powers 
of his mind, thus reason and thus be happy ? 
View the proud man. Lull his predomi- 
nant passion to sleep, and engage him in 
a subject or a pursuit in which this passion 
is not interested, and you may find his 
perceptions clear, and his language and 
sentiments correct. But see him again 
when his pride is excited. He will oppose 
the most obvious truths, because they are 
suggested by one whom he deems an in- 
feriour. He confounds humility with mean- 
ness, and has no conception that one can 
exist without the other. Meekness and 
forbearance are in his view evidences of a 
want of spirit ; and the resentment of 
wrongs, if not a virtue, is at the worst, an 
errour of noble souls. He estimates opin- 
ions and characters, not by the unerring 
standard of truth, but by the contracted 
scale of his own prejudices ; and admires 



77 

or condemns, as his prevailing humour is 
gratified or disappointed. Is not the un- 
derstanding of such a«man enslaved by his 
pride ? You may say that the powers of 
his mind are great, but if they act only in 
subserviency to this passion, is not his 
mind a servant of the lust which he obeys ? 
— View the man also, in whom worldly 
ambition has obtained ascendancy. He 
thinks, he dreams of nothing, but of illus- 
trious achievements or of loud applauses. 
He would live; how? In the breath of 
the multitude. — He would obtain ; what ? 
— honours which will wither, perhaps soon- 
er than the first flowers which bloom upon 
his grave. To gratify this ambition, he 
sacrifices time, health and virtue ; and he 
deems the offering small, if he can effect- 
uate his purpose. Nay, not only would 
he sacrifice his own, but the lives, the for- 
tunes, the reputations and the virtue, of 
thousands. Will the unvitiated reason of 
a man approve of this as the ultimate 
object of pursuit? Above all, will it ap- 
prove of these means of accomplishing any 



78 

object? Say then, if you please, that 
ambition is a splendid vice, but say not 
that the understanding of the ambitious 
man is free. His chains may dazzle your 
sight, and their glare may even render 
them imperceptible to himself; but the 
faculties of his mind are not on that ac- 
count less enslaved. His understanding, ' 
if at liberty to examine and to judge, would 
denounce his favourite passion, and the 
means of indulging it, not less severely 
than they are denounced in the gospel. — 
Nor is the understanding of the avaricious 
man more free, than that of the ambitious 
and the proud. He attaches a supreme 
value to wealth, from which he anticipates 
no higher good, than the pleasure of be- 
holding it. Is this a reasonable gratifica- 
tion ? You acknowledge that the worth 
of riches, to a miser, is only imaginary ; that 
his pains and his pleasures, though appar- 
ently excited by his successes and his mis- 
fortunes, do in fact result from the state of 
his own mind. Yet what is this but a con- 
cession, that his understanding is enslaved 



79 

by his affection for the useless wealth which 
he has amassed? His soul is bound to his 
coffers, and scarcely does one thought es- 
cape the golden barriers which surround it. 
Give freedom to his understanding, and 
would he deem himself more rich, by the 
possession of millions which he never in- 
tends to use, than he is by a knowledge, 
that within the body of the earth are con- 
tained innumerable jewels of inestimable 
value ? — Observe the envious, and say, if 
their understandings are not likewise en- 
slaved by their prevailing passion ? The 
liberty of reflection would soon cure this 
dreadful malady of the soul ; but while envy 
is indulged, every thought, every desire, is 
attached to those possessions of another, 
which it would appropriate to itself. The 
envious man is not permitted to enumerate 
and to estimate his own blessings ? or if 
this indulgence be allowed, it is only on 
condition, that he compares himself with 
those about him. Is not this a most de- 
basing subjection of the mind ? Is not he 
who thus committeth sin, a servant of sin ? 



8o 

— View the man also, whose jealous spirit 
is always awake, to catch every expression, 
and to notice every action, of the object by 
which it is excited. Can he reason calmly 
on the causes of his suspicion ? Can he 
weigh evidence, and determine with impar- 
tiality ? On other subjects, he may indeed 
be able to deliberate, and to give to every 
consideration the importance which it de- 
mands ; but in the object of his jealousy, 
he can see nothing to justify, nor even to 
excuse. Every effort to please, he con- 
siders as an artifice to deceive him ; and 
every virtue, which attracts the admiration 
and the love of others, in his apprehension, 
is but a gilded crime. Is not his under- 
standing enslaved then by the passion 
which he obeys ? — Observe likewise the 
man whose resentment is inflamed. He 
knows that he has committed a thousand 
offences against others, as great as that, 
which he is determined to revenge. He 
will acknowledge to you, in a dispassionate 
moment, that he has so often broken the 
laws of God, that without the divine mercy 



8i 

is extended to him, he has no hope of 
future happiness. Yet this man, who 
has so often experienced the clemency of 
others ; this man, whose very existence is 
to be attributed to the forbearance of God; 
this man, who depends on sovereign and 
unmerited grace for future pardon and 
acceptance, cannot patiently submit to an 
expression or action, by which his expecta- 
tions are disappointed. If he acquire for 
a moment a control of his thoughts, he is 
rendered humble, and penitent, and for- 
giving ; but do not these very effects of 
reflection, demonstrate that the mind is 
enslaved, while it is influenced by resent- 
ful passions ? Dreadful is the tyranny of 
revenge. Every faculty has been strained 
to its utmost point of exertion, to gratify 
its exorbitant demands. Every pursuit, 
every pleasure has been abandoned, that 
no thought and no care might interfere, 
with the accomplishment of its malignant 
designs. How forcible then, are the words 
of the apostle, "to whom we yield our- 
selves servants to obey, his servants we 
ii 



82 

are whom we obey." How just and how 
full of instruction are the words of our 
Lord, he who committeth sin, is the ser- 
vant of sin. 

2. Sin enslaves the affections. "The 
affections have pleasure and pain for their 
objects, and by them we are excited to 
pursue happiness and to avoid misery, and 
all its apparent causes." In themselves 
they are innocent. It is only when 
attached to evil, that they become causes 
of guilt and wretchedness. "They are 
the winds, which, though often tempest- 
uous, are necessary to convey the vessel 
to its port." If subject to the control of 
reason and religion, they will bear us 
smoothly and safely along, equally distant 
from the whirlpools of temptation, and the 
rocks and surges of disappointed expecta- 
tion. But if the dominion of reason and 
religion be resigned, terrible will be the 
sufferings in which they will involve us. 
No gratification will be sought, but either 
of sense or passion ; and every meanness 
and crime will be perpetrated, almost with- 



83 

out shame and remorse. — But let us con- 
fine ourselves to the metaphor which is 
used by our Lord. Sin enslaves the af- 
fections. To excite our love of piety and 
virtue, and our abhorrence of iniquity, 
God has attached to his laws, the most 
glorious promises and the most awful 
denunciations ; he has made reputation, 
health, and pleasure, the attendants of 
virtue, and anguish and disease and dis- 
grace the consequences of vice ; he has 
implanted within us the principle of con- 
science, to impel us to duty, and to restrain 
us from transgression. But the practice 
of evil being for a short time indulged, all 
these restraints and motives yield to its 
influence ; and so strong does the love of 
vice become, that men daily and deliber- 
ately commit it, even with pain, and dis- 
grace, and death, and damnation in their 
view. Does not sin enslave the affections 
of the epicure, the drunkard, and the de- 
bauchee ? They supremely love the objects 
to which these guilty passions are attached ; 
and sacrifice to them all which is most 



8 4 

interesting and dear in time and in eternity. 
Would a rational being, whose affections 
were free, attach them to objects, which 
necessarily produce ultimate ruin and 
misery ? Is not this attachment, so abhor- 
rent to reason, to duty, and happiness, a 
demonstration, that the affections of a 
sinner are in the most debased condition 
to which slavery can reduce them ? Our 
affections are then free, when the happi- 
ness which they seek, or the misery which 
they avoid, is approved by conscience and 
the divine word ; when we pursue and find 
pleasure in the path of duty. Then are 
there no jarring interests within us ; no 
conflicts of discordant desires. However 
strong be our attachments, we are then 
conscious that they are free, because we 
would not diminish them, under any change 
of circumstances which can be anticipated. 
But a sinner daily resolves against the in- 
dulgences which he daily practises ; and it 
is his love of the pleasures or the profits 
of iniquity, which stimulates him to pursue 
them. He loves the wages of sin, more 



85 

than the riches and the honours of heaven. 
Where our treasures are, there will our 
hearts, our affections be also ; and the 
treasures of a sinner, and his heart are in 
the lust which he obeys. This is the 
second illustration which we proposed of 
our text. 

In the 3d place, sin enslaves the will. 
"The will is that state of the mind, which 
is previous to, and which causes, those 
actions, which we call voluntary, or free." 
It is true, that a sinner acts by choice, 
equally as the most pious of men ; that is, 
he is free to do the evil which he loves. 
But is he free also to do good? "Out of 
thine own mouth will I judge thee, thou 
wicked servant." You love the course of 
evil into which you have entered ; you 
choose it ; but should you not rather be 
upright, than dishonest ; of a generous 
and forgiving, than of a malignant temper ? 
Should you not rather be benevolent, than 
envious and selfish? humble, than proud? 
temperate, than devoted to the gratifica- 
tions of appetite ? chaste in your affec- 



86 

tions and conduct, than licentious and im- 
pure ? Why then do you persist in vices, 
which you know must at last overwhelm 
you with shame and misery ? You daily 
acknowledge that you cannot abandon them. 
You daily practise them, as a slave thought- 
lessly goes to the task, to which he has 
been so long accustomed, that his motions 
in performing it are almost mechanical. 
You have a thousand times resolved that 
you would reform ; but your continuance 
in sin demonstrates the moral impotence 
of your will. Say not then that you are 
free, because you act from choice ; because 
you have invented excuses, or even justi- 
fications of your conduct. These excuses, 
these justifications, are but suggestions of 
your sinful passions, to conceal from you 
the thraldom in which you are held. "When 
you would do good, evil is present with 
you ; " and notwithstanding all the means 
and motives which are applied to dissuade 
you from vice, and to encourage you to 
virtue and holiness ; notwithstanding your 
convictions of duty, and of the ultimate 



87 

happiness which it will produce, you per- 
sist in errour and iniquity. Your will bows 
submissive to the authority of your pas- 
sions, while reason and religion stand 
pleading with you to be wise, to reform, 
and to be happy forever. Is not he then 
who committeth sin completely the servant 
of sin ? 

But it is said, if the soul be thus en- 
slaved, is man accountable for the actions 
which he cannot control ? Yes ; for how- 
ever debased be his condition, he was once 
free, and voluntarily became a slave. He 
freely sold his faculties to the service of 
taskmasters, who he knew never relented ; 
whose bondage, he was taught by the ex- 
perience of thousands, was as strong and 
more cruel than the grave. God never 
formed an accountable being, with pro- 
pensities to evil which he could not resist. 
There is a season of life, in which every 
passion may be subjected. If at this sea- 
son we indulge its demands, its authority 
soon becomes too strongly confirmed to 
be easily shaken. We begin with pre- 



88 

scribing bounds, within which we will limit 
evil gratifications. We pass these bounds. 
We resolve to be more circumspect ; but 
at the same time excuse our guilt, by 
pleading the strength of temptation. The 
same temptations recur, or we are excited 
by others of equal force, and we justify 
that, which before we attempted only to 
excuse. Then is the soul enslaved. But 
who will say, that the first, or the second 
transgression was necessary ? that the 
temptation, by no exertion, could be re- 
sisted ? Whatever be the power of any 
propensity to evil, who is not conscious of 
a time, when he might have obtained over 
it an easy and complete victory ? Not 
only for his guilty conduct, therefore, is 
the sinner accountable, but for the very 
strength of the passion by which he was 
excited to commit it ; for that very state 
of the mind, by which he was predisposed 
to become the slave of temptation. This 
is indeed an awful consideration. It is a 
consideration which, duly influencing the 
mind, would induce the sinner, not only to 



8 9 

hazard every comfort of life, but life itself, 
in the endeavour, to repent, to reform, and 
to become holy. 

But though man be not able, of him- 
self, to overcome the impotence of the 
enslaved affections and will ; yet by the 
means of grace with which he is furnished, 
he may regain his liberty, and become a 
child of God. "My grace is sufficient for 
thee ; my strength is made perfect in weak- 
ness." God is accessible at all times, and 
in all places, by prayer. He has made his 
will so plain, that he who runs may read ; 
and he has enforced it by motives, which 
to serious and ingenuous minds, seem 
irresistible. There is therefore no excuse 
for guilt. For the greatest sinners there 
is hope, because there are means of reform- 
ation, which, wisely applied, will be effect- 
ual. Behold then the goodness and the 
severity of God ; and let it lead us to 
repentance. 

By these considerations we justify the 
dreadful denunciations of the gospel 
against those, who are confirmed in the 

12 



9° 

love and practice of evil. They have re- 
sisted means of grace, and motives to piety 
and virtue, which our Lord assures us 
would have converted those idolatrous and 
abandoned cities, which were overwhelmed 
and destroyed by the vengeance of God. 
They have freely and habitually debased 
all the powers of their souls, when they 
knew that, thus perverted, and thus cor- 
rupted, they could have no interest in the 
promises. The temptations, to which they 
have yielded their piety and virtue, were 
designed to exercise and to strengthen 
their holy and benevolent affections ; and 
if they had been vigorously resisted, suc- 
cess would have been certain, and the 
honours and rewards of victory splendid 
and great. What then does not he de- 
serve who has sold himself a slave to vice, 
notwithstanding the convictions of his 
guilt, the reproaches of conscience, and 
the admonitions, the promises, and threat- 
enings of the gospel ; who has slighted 
the presence of God, been unaffected by 
his holiness, regardless of his justice, and 



9i 

ungrateful for his love ? What means, 
what motives would reclaim a sinner, on 
whom the excitements of Christianity are 
unavailing? They who refused Moses' 
law died without mercy. Of how much 
sorer punishment then shall not he be 
thought worthy, who has trodden under 
foot the Son of God, and counted the 
blood of the covenant an unholy thing, 
and done despite to the spirit of grace ? 

But God never abandons one, who has 
not completely abandoned himself. If you 
feel, therefore, one emotion of godly sor- 
row, you may receive pardon and life, for 
you may repent and reform. I beseech 
you then in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled 
to God. 



j 



DISCOURSE III. 



PHILIPPIANS ii. 12, 13. 

Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling ; 
for it is God that worketh in you both to will and to 
do of his good pleasure. 

THE text contains both a doctrine and 
a duty. The duty is, that we work out 
our own salvation with fear and trembling ; 
the doctrine, that it is God who worketh 
in us to will and to do of his good pleasure. 
Between them there is a close and very 
important relation, though they are appar- 
ently contradictory. I would obviate this 
apparent inconsistency, and illustrate their 
relation ; and, by the powerful and interest- 
ing motives which they involve, urge you 
to become workers together with God, in 
securing your final and eternal happiness. 



93 

It is a fundamental principle in all our 
reasonings on the communications or the 
operations of God, so far as they respect 
mankind, that he does and must act in 
perfect consistency with the natures which 
he has given us. We are rational, and he 
therefore addresses our reasons, requiring 
faith no further than he furnishes evidence 
to support it. We are free, and he there- 
fore proposes good and evil to our choice. 
The supposition is absurd, that an infinitely 
wise and good Being would give a com- 
mand to a creature, which he could not 
obey ; that he would offer salvation on a 
condition with which the creature could 
not comply, and then condemn him for not 
complying with it. As the commands and 
promises and threatenings of the gospel 
are therefore addressed to all, either the 
gospel is not true, or man is entirely a free 
agent. — The supposition is absurd, that 
God would create man with a capacity of 
discriminating truth from errour, and virtue 
from vice, and then require a belief which 
directly contradicted his reason. It is true 



94 

that God may reveal doctrines which are 
above our comprehensions, and, by the 
evidence that they are revealed by him, 
may convince us of their truth. But in this 
very evidence he addresses our reasons, 
and leaves us without excuse if we do not 
receive them. But it is impossible, while 
we exercise our reasons, to believe that 
God has commanded us to work out our 
own salvation with fear and trembling, and 
at the same time to believe, that we are 
dependent for our final happiness on his 
unconditional election ; that unless we are 
thus elected, all our prayers and all our 
labours will be wholly ineffectual. It is to 
destroy all the obligations of piety, except 
on the elect. It is to annihilate the great 
doctrine of human responsibility ; for they 
who are unconditionally elected, as they 
are perfectly secured from any fatal errour 
or vice, cannot properly be considered as 
responsible ; nor can an account justly be 
demanded of men, with whatever means of 
religion they have been favoured, and with 
whatever motives to its practice, who were 






95 

unconditionally doomed to destruction. 
These remarks are appropriate to the illus- 
tration which I propose of the text. The 
doctrine is one of the most interesting 
which the gospel proposes, " It is God 
who worketh in you both to will and to do 
of his good pleasure ;" and it is in perfect 
consistency with the command, "work out 
your own salvation with fear and trem- 
bling/' 

God works in us, i. by the influence of 
creation and providence ; 2. by the influ- 
ence of conscience ; 3. by the influence of 
the divine word ; 4. by the influence of 
prayer; and 5thly, by the influence of the 
holy spirit. 

1. By the influence of creation and 
providence. "The heavens declare the 
glory of God, and the firmament sheweth 
his handy-work ; day unto day uttereth 
speech, and night unto night sheweth 
knowledge of him/' The minutest par- 
ticle of matter is an evidence of a Creator, 
because no particle could create itself. 
Every evidence which is exhibited in every 



9 6 

object, of wisdom, of power, and of good- 
ness, is an evidence of these attributes in 
God. Every adaptation of objects to one 
another, is a distinct proof of the provi- 
dence of God. Reflect on the skill, which 
is displayed in the structure of a flower, a 
leaf, a spire of grass. It is unfathomable. 
It awakens admiration and reverence of its 
creator in every serious mind. Extend 
your views then to the whole vegetable 
creation. God is in all, and over all. With- 
out him, not one could have existed, not 
one could exist for a moment. How well 
adapted are they therefore to keep in ex- 
ercise the emotions which they awaken ? 
Observe the minutest insect. How won- 
derful is its organization ? The most 
admirable contrivance of man bears no 
comparison with it. How much more 
wonderful then is that wisdom, which 
framed every individual of the vast variety 
of creatures which inhabit our globe ? You 
see that every creature is suited to its 
element ; that abundant provision is made 
for its wants, and that it possesses all the 



97 

means which are requisite for their gratifi- 
cation. Can you thus reflect on God, 
without sentiments of gratitude and devo- 
tion ? If we feel these sentiments in 
reflecting on his creation and providence, 
it is God working in us to will and to do 
of his good pleasure. His agency is as 
certain in producing these effects in our 
hearts, as it is in the structure of our 
hearts, or of the objects which we contem- 
plate. Observe your own forms. Reflect 
on your intellectual, your social, your moral 
nature ; your entire dependence, and the 
constant goodness of God in sustaining 
you ; your unnumbered wants, and the 
provision which is made for them ; your 
capacity of improvement, and the means 
of attaining it. Are not each of these 
most powerful motives to love, to adore, 
and to obey all the will of your Creator ? 
The more we reflect on ourselves, the 
deeper becomes our conviction, that in 
God we live, and move, and have our 
being ; and in thus producing this convic- 
tion, does he not work in us to will and to 
13 



9 8 

do of his good pleasure ? All which is 
great and beautiful, all which is wise and 
beneficent in creation and providence, is 
exhibited to exercise our admiration, our 
reverence, our gratitude, our love ; all 
which is mysterious, or afflictive, to try 
our faith and resignation. These senti- 
ments and affections are essential to true 
piety; and if they are excited by a con- 
templation of his government or of his 
works, the agency of God in producing 
them is to be acknowledged and adored. 

2. God works in us by the influence of 
conscience ; that faculty by which we judge 
of the rectitude or impropriety of our 
conduct ; which makes vice a source of 
unutterable anguish, and virtue productive 
of the highest happiness. So powerful is 
its influence, that to repress it, often baffles 
all the efforts of the most abandoned ; and 
thousands daily feel its tortures, whose 
apparent prosperity we ignorantly envy. 
In an approving conscience does a good 
man find a refuge from all the oppressions 
of the world ; a support under the heaviest 



99 

burden of adversity; an excitement to 
perseverance in duty, with whatever diffi- 
culties and dangers it may be attended. 
And if he whom conscience condemns 
would regard its admonitions, and submit 
to its restraints, virtue and peace would 
soon be restored in his heart. You must 
deny therefore, that God intended by this 
means to produce this effect, or acknowl- 
edge, that by every operation of conscience, 
he is working in us to will and to do of his 
good pleasure. If the joys of an approving, 
and the distresses of a wounded conscience, 
are sanctions of the will of God, which all 
acknowledge who believe that man is a 
subject of the divine government, then are 
they designed by him to co-operate with 
the revelation of his will, in producing that 
obedience which he demands. I appeal to 
your experience, if you have not been 
restrained by conscience from actions, 
which you were powerfully excited to per- 
form ; if its reproaches have not awakened 
repentance, and the. most earnest desires 
and endeavours to love God more, and to 



IOO 

serve him better. I appeal to your ex- 
perience, if the consciousness of having 
discharged your duty, has not rendered 
you more resolute and vigorous in pur- 
suing it ; if it have not detached your 
affections from objects which are vain and 
vicious ; consoled you in afflictions, and 
made you supremely happy in whatever 
you deemed the service of God. This is 
to will and to do of his good pleasure. It 
is what his word inculcates ; and in every 
excitement of conscience, either to repent- 
ance or to increasing fidelity, is God as 
literally working in us, as if he personally 
suggested the motives by which we are 
actuated. 

3. God operates upon our wills and 
upon our conduct, by the influence of his 
word. The gospel contains a perfect rule, 
suited to every condition of man, and to 
every circumstance of his life. To con- 
vince us that this is the will of God, on 
which depends our eternal condition in 
the future state, we have the evidence of 
prophecy and of miracles. It is indeed a 



IOI 

rule of life, which instantly approves itself 
to every unprejudiced mind, and he that 
doeth his will, will know of the doctrine 
that it is from God ; but can it be doubted 
that these evidences were designed to 
confirm our faith and to secure our obedi- 
ence, and thus to work in us both to will 
and to do of his good pleasure ? They 
who saw and heard our Lord, but rejected 
his authority, were condemned, because 
they did not yield to the influence of these 
powerful motives to faith and holiness. 
"Wo unto thee, Corazin ; wo unto thee, 
Bethsaida ; for if the mighty works had 
been done in Tyre and Sidon, which have 
been done in thee, they would have re- 
pented long ago in sackcloth and ashes." 
But why did they deserve condemnation, 
if these miracles were not intended to work 
in them faith and obedience ? It was not 
by an arbitrary and irresistible impulse, 
that God then produced conviction of the 
truth of the gospel, and that devotion to 
him which he required. To convince and 
to convert his hearers, our Lord referred 



102 

to the prophecies, and to the works which 
he had wrought in his Fathers name ; and 
that they were adapted to produce faith 
and repentance, thanks to God, is evinced 
by the happy experience of millions. For 
the same purpose did our Lord enforce his 
requirements, by the most glorious prom- 
ises and the most awful threatenings. 
He places before us happiness and misery, 
heaven and hell, and then bids us choose 
the service of God or of sin. He works 
in us to will and to do of his good pleasure, 
by the most affecting motives which could 
possibly be proposed to rational beings ; 
by the holy example which he exhibited 
for our imitation ; by his sufferings and 
death, to obtain the forgiveness of the sins 
of which we repent ; and if we will not 
receive the evidence of Moses and the 
prophets, of Christ and the apostles ; if we 
are not excited by this evidence, nor by his 
promises and denunciations, to the holiness 
which he demands, we should not be per- 
suaded, though one rose from the dead. 
Could more be done, consistently with the 



103 

freedom of man, to secure our faith, and 
the entire submission of our own to his 
perfect will ? 

4. God works in us to will and to do of 
his good pleasure, by the influence of 
prayer ; an influence of which every pious 
heart is deeply sensible ; which naturally 
results from a sense of the august presence 
of that Being, to whom prayer is addressed ; 
from that deep sensibility which is then 
experienced, of his eternity, his power, his 
holiness, his goodness and his truth ; from 
the deep conviction which is then felt, of 
our own, and of the entire and constant 
dependence of all creatures upon him. 
He works in us to pray, by teaching us 
our relation to him as children, his readi- 
ness to hear and to bless us, and his gracious 
purposes toward us in another and a better 
world. Is it possible thus to approach 
God, without the deepest reverence, love, 
gratitude, humility, and resignation ? Is it 
possible, at the same time, to derive our 
happiness from this intercourse, to retain 
the sentiments which it inspires, and to 



104 

find pleasure in indulgences, which are 
forbidden in the gospel ? We know the 
influence of intercourse with the wise and 
good. Admiration of their virtues naturally 
and easily leads us to a desire of imitation. 
We are ready and happy to do much, to 
retain their confidence and affection. We 
are encouraged to perseverance, by all 
which they have done, and all which they 
have enjoyed in consequence of their virtue. 
Nay, the presence of the wise and good 
awes even the most vicious ; and they 
cannot endure their society, because it 
confirms their consciousness of guilt. How 
much more effectual will be the influence 
of intercourse with God ? Who would be 
dishonest, revengeful, impure, avaricious, 
or proud ; who would omit duties which 
he acknowledges, and commit offences 
against which he is repeatedly and most 
solemnly warned, if he felt the presence of 
God, if he were accustomed to that com- 
munion with Him, to which he is encour- 
aged in the gospel ? In admitting us then, 
to this intercourse, does not God work in 



io5 

us to will and to do of his good pleasure? 
Does not the close, the natural connexion 
of the cause with the effect, demonstrate 
that prayer was appointed by God, as one 
of the means of qualifying us for the eter- 
nal enjoyments of his kingdom ? 

5. God works in us by the agency of 
his holy spirit. It is well known that the 
holy spirit descended on the apostles on 
the day of pentecost, by the influence of 
which they were enabled to preach the 
gospel to every people in their own lan- 
guage, and to perform the most wonderful 
miracles in confirmation of their doctrine. 
It is obvious, that the holy spirit for which 
we are encouraged to pray, cannot be the 
same gift which was conferred, for most 
important purposes, on the first preachers 
of the New Testament. Yet the influence 
of the spirit we are taught to expect, if 
with a suitable disposition we seek for it ; 
and do we not receive it, in the sentiments 
of religious admiration, gratitude, love and 
devotion, which a contemplation of his 
works and government inspire ? in the 
14 



io6 

restraints and encouragements of con- 
science ? in the divine light which the 
gospel pours over the soul, which feels its 
power and yields to its motives ; in the 
holy affections which it awakens ; the con- 
solation which it produces in affliction ; 
the strength and delight which it furnishes 
in the service of God ? Do we not receive 
the spirit of God in the exercise of prayer, 
when we feel that our prayers have in- 
creased our confidence in God ; fanned the 
flame of our love ; rendered us more hum- 
ble and vigilant ; more deeply interested 
in the good of others, and more active to 
promote it ; more detached from the world, 
more happy in the hope of heaven, and 
more zealous to attain it ? The spirit acts 
by the agency of means ; and we receive 
the spirit by every means, by which our 
love of God and of holiness is increased. 
By his spirit, therefore he acts upon our 
wills, in perfect consistency with their 
freedom. He has promised his holy spirit 
to those only who ask, who seek for it. 
Does not the doctrine, thus illustrated, 



io7 

most powerfully enforce the command, 
work out your own salvation with fear and 
trembling? What encouragement would 
induce us to labour for our eternal happi- 
ness, to use with fidelity and gratitude the 
means which are appointed of securing an 
interest in the great redemption, if we are 
unaffected by the assurance, that God is 
thus working in us to will and to do of his 
good pleasure ? The apostles, in preach- 
ing the gospel, and in persuading men to 
receive and obey it, are called workers 
together with God ; and we are workers 
together with God in effectuating our own 
salvation, when we improve as we ought 
the means of grace, the price which is put 
into our hands to obtain wisdom, and 
pardon, and life. 

To work out our own salvation, we 
must then, in the first place, habitually 
acknowledge God in his works, and in his 
government of the world. In vain would 
be all the displays which are presented in 
creation and providence, of the power, the 
wisdom, and the goodness of God, if there 



io8 

were none capable of contemplating them, 
of learning the character, and performing 
the will of their author ; and God has given 
us the capacities which are requisite for 
these purposes, that by thus knowing him, 
we may be excited to diligence in his 
service. We have only to open our eyes, 
and we shall see God, every where active 
and every where good. We have only to 
open our hearts, and we shall feel our 
dependence and obligations ; the most 
perfect confidence and entire submission. 

"Full often, it is true, 

"Our wayward intellect, the more we learn 
"Of nature, overlooks her Author more." 

Task, B. 3. 

But that the contemplation of his works 
and providence is adapted to awaken the 
most elevated sentiments of piety, and to 
animate us in the service of God, is known 
to all who have ever seriously thought of 
God. To derive from them these effects, 
we must habitually refer to God all the 
wisdom, power, and benevolence which 
they discover ; we must habitually re- 



109 

member that he is in all, and over all ; we 
must daily acknowledge his government, 
both in the prosperous and adverse events 
of life ; and whether they affect others or 
ourselves. Is it a hard requirement, that 
we thus cherish a remembrance of God, 
and all the sentiments and virtues which 
this sense of his presence and perfections 
will inspire? In his sermon on the mount, 
our Saviour taught his disciples thus to 
seek God, and to cherish the gratitude, the 
confidence and devotion which he required. 
Behold the flowers of the field ! Solomon 
in all his glory was not arrayed like one of 
these. Will not he then, who has clothed 
the flowers with so much beauty, clothe 
you also, O ye of little faith ? Behold the 
fowls of the air. They neither sow, nor 
reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your 
heavenly father feedeth them. Will he 
not then feed you ? Do you not see in his 
care of the creatures about you, a motive 
to love him, to trust in him, and to serve 
him ? Thus keep the Lord ever before 
you, by an habitual regard to his creation 



no 

and providence, by that confidence in him 
and that gratitude which he thus inculcates, 
and by that submission which you owe to 
Him on whom you are entirely dependent, 
and you so far obey the command, "to 
work out your salvation with fear and 
trembling." Every reference which is thus 
made to his presence, every sentiment of 
love and devotion which is thus excited, 
qualifies us at once for a better improve- 
ment of every other means of grace, and 
for the final happiness for which they are 
all intended to prepare us. 

2. We work out our own salvation, 
when we avail ourselves of the encourage- 
ments and admonitions of conscience ; 
when we are prompted by the happiness 
which results from a consciousness of 
having performed our duties, to increased 
earnestness in the service of God ; and 
when, by the reproaches of a wounded 
spirit, we are induced to repentance and 
reformation. It was for these purposes 
that God implanted the faculty within us ; 
and he who disregards the suggestions of 



I II 

conscience, by whatever circumstance it is 
excited, refuses to co-operate with God in 
the great work of salvation. By our dis- 
regard of conscience, its influence becomes 
gradually repressed ; and hence its ineffi- 
ciency. But if we cherished, as we should, 
the delightful emotions which are excited 
by a hope of the favour of God, how strong 
would be its impulse to increasing holiness? 
If, whenever we are made conscious of 
guilt, we reflected maturely on the design 
of God in thus awakening us ; and on the 
nature and just consequences of our sins ; 
if we were reminded, as we should be by 
our sufferings, that without repentance and 
a renewed heart we cannot see God and 
live, then should we be guilty of no habit- 
ual transgression. The restraints and 
encouragements of conscience have been 
partially felt by all ; but if we would make 
them subservient to our attainment of the 
great salvation, we must regard every sug- 
gestion of this heavenly monitor ; we must 
endeavour to maintain a conscience void 
of offence, toward God, and toward man. 



112 

3- We work out our own salvation, 
when we attend to the evidences of the 
truth of the gospel ; when we study it with 
frequency and earnestness, to ascertain 
what is the will of God ; when we make its 
requirements our supreme rule, and cherish 
its hopes, as infinitely the best possession 
of man. As God is there working in us by 
the force of these evidences, by his prom- 
ises and denunciations, by the beauty of 
holiness as it is illustrated in the example 
of Christ, and by the infinite mercy which 
is expressed in his death, we become 
workers together with him, in cherishing 
our faith, in conforming to his ordinances, 
in obeying his laws, and in submitting to 
his appointments, trusting in his promises. 
To know the will of God, does not indeed 
require labour. He who runs may read it. 
The wayfaring man, though a fool, need 
not err therein. But to retain its influence 
on our hearts and lives, demands our 
utmost exertions ; and one of the most 
efficient means of securing it, is the daily 
and attentive study of the divine word ; 



"3 

the habitual remembrance, that this is the 
law by which we shall ultimately be judged. 
Every one who knows any thing of the 
deceitfulness of his own heart, feels the 
necessity of this constant reference to the 
word of God, to guide and to guard him ; 
and by every hour of its serious study, by 
every recurrence to it as our rule of life, 
by every conformity to its institutions and 
obedience to its requirements, from a prin- 
ciple of love to God, do we advance toward 
the great salvation, the inheritance of its 
promises. 

4. As God works in us to will and to 
do of his good pleasure, by the influence 
of prayer, so do we become workers to- 
gether with God, when we live in the habit 
of intimate and devout communion with 
him. We are expressly taught, that much 
of that happiness in the future world which 
is involved in the promised salvation, will 
be derived from intercourse with God in 
prayer. In this world, it is one of the 
most efficient means of that holiness, of 
which it will be the eternal security in the 

15 



ii4 

future. All the exhibitions which God has 
givea of himself, all his promises, all our 
weaknesses, and wants, and fears, are 
motives by which God is working in us to 
pray. If they produce on us the effects 
for which they are intended, if they excite 
us to pray, then do we thus work out our 
own salvation. Every prayer, offered with 
deep humility and reverence, and love and 
resignation, renders us better prepared for 
that union with God, in which will consist 
the glory of the saints in heaven ; and so 
far will be these motives by which God is 
working in us, from promoting our salva- 
tion, if we are not thus excited to habitual 
and devout communion with him, that they 
will justly become the causes to us of the 
severest condemnation. 

5. We work out our own salvation, 
when we seek the influences of the Spirit 
of God, and are actuated by them ; the 
influence of that spirit which lives and 
addresses us in all the works of God ; 
which impels or restrains us by the agency 
of conscience ; which pervades the divine 



"5 

word, giving efficacy to its sacred truths ; 
which descends upon the sincere wor- 
shipper in the exercise of prayer. It is a 
spirit which God will give to all who seek 
it ; which he is more ready to confer, than 
is the kindest parent to bestow bread upon 
his hungry offspring. How perfectly con- 
sistent then is this influence of God, with 
the freedom of the human will ? Every 
sentiment of piety and virtue, which is 
excited by the works and providence of 
God, by conscience, by the study of the 
word of God, or by prayer, is to be 
attributed to the Spirit of God. Every 
emotion of repentance, every desire of 
greater devotion, is to be ascribed to the 
strivings of his spirit. By them he is 
working in us. By cherishing these fruits 
of the spirit, we co-operate with God, in 
securing for ourselves glory, and honour, 
and immortality. 

The requirement to fear and tremble in 
the great work of salvation, does not imply, 
that we should engage in the service of 
God with a constant dread of his dis- 



n6 

pleasure ; that by our exposure to fall, we 
should be rendered timid in the discharge 
of duty. No. Whenever life is repre- 
sented as a warfare, we are exhorted to a 
courage which no dangers can daunt ; and 
the apostle who has recorded the require- 
ment, that we "work out our salvation with 
fear and trembling,'' was one of the most 
fearless and heroick of mankind. But our 
care, our watchfulness will always be in- 
creased, in proportion to our estimation 
of the object which we would attain ; and 
surely, if we are sensible of the worth of that 
salvation which is proffered in the gospel, 
if we realize our weakness, if we reflect on 
the tendency of our passions to evil, and the 
number and strength of the temptations to 
which we are exposed, we shall be incess- 
antly cautious ; and though not timid in 
reflecting on the labours which are to be 
accomplished, we shall, above all things, 
be afraid to sin. It is this fear indeed, 
which distinguishes true courage from that 
impetuosity of temper, that unprincipled 
hardihood of mind, which the unthinking 



ii7 

and the vicious mistake for magnanimity. 
We cannot have just sentiments of the 
salvation which awaits us, if we are not 
faithful to the service of God ; of the duties 
which he requires ; of the relapses of others 
from virtue and piety ; of our own frequent 
transgressions, and of the awful conse- 
quences of sin ; and not fear, lest we 
should be overcome of evil. He who 
knows not this dread of sin, has no just 
conceptions of the worth of that redemp- 
tion, which is offered to us by the Son of 
God. 

Considering then that God is working 
in us to will and to do of his good pleasure, 
let us be encouraged to work out our own 
salvation with fear and trembling ; to fear 
lest, a promise being left of entering into 
rest, any of us should fall short of it. 
Labour not for the meat which perisheth, 
but for that meat which endureth unto 
everlasting life. Diligently apply to every 
means of grace, and God will give them 
efficacy. He has never said to one of the 
children of men, Seek ye me, in vain. Ask 



1 1.8 

then, and it shall be given you ; seek and 
ye shall find ; knock and it shall be opened 
to you ; for if ye, being evil, know how to 
give good gifts to your children, will not 
your heavenly Father give his holy spirit 
to them that ask him ? — Bestow on us this 
spirit, holy Father ! Guide us by thy 
counsel, secure us by thy grace, and re- 
ceive us at last to the perfect and eternal 
enjoyment of thee, through Jesus Christ, 
to whom be glory for ever. AMEN. 



DISCOURSE IV. 



MATTHEW vii. 12. 

All things whatsoever ye 7vould that men should do 
to you, do ye even so to them. 

THE text is a summary of the duties of 
social morality. It is a rule of life which, 
if habitually applied, would supersede the 
necessity of innumerable laws ; for it is 
adapted to repress the worst passions, to 
awaken and to exercise every good affec- 
tion, and to diffuse through our own minds, 
through our families, and through society, 
all the improvement and happiness of which 
social virtue can be productive. Whatso- 
ever ye would that men should do to yotc, 
do ye even so to them. 



120 

The precept is deeply founded in the 
nature of man. Without some regard to 
justice and to benevolence, society could 
not have existed ; and so many are the 
weaknesses and the wants of which all are 
sensible, and so wretched must every one 
have found himself, without the considera- 
tion and regard of those about him, that 
we are not surprised at meeting with this 
requirement, in the works of many, who 
not only lived long before the gospel, but 
who were wholly ignorant of each other. * 
But in ten thousand instances have men 
been actuated by it from a strong sentiment 

*This great rule is implied in a speech of Lycias, and ex- 
pressed in distinct phrases by Thales and Pictacus; and I have 
seen it, word for word, in the original of Confucius. It has 
been usual for zealous men to ridicule and abuse all those who 
dare on this point to quote the Chinese philosopher. But in- 
stead of supporting their cause, they would shake it, if it could 
be shaken, by their uncandid asperity; for they ought to re- 
member, that one great end of revelation, as it is most expressly 
declared, was not to instruct the wise and few, but the many 
and unenlightened. To millions of the Chinese, who toil for 
their daily support, it is unknown even at this day; nor, was it 
known ever so perfectly, would it have a divine sanction with 
the multitude. — Sir W. Jones. Asiatick Researches V.^. p. 
177. 

See also Grotius on the text. 



121 

of benevolence, who never thought of it as 
a law. For all the advantages therefore, 
which are derived from the reception of it 
as a divine command, and for the diffusion 
of a knowledge of it through all classes of 
men, we are indebted to the gospel ; and 
it is not necessary to take a wide survey of 
life to be sensible, that, for these advan- 
tages, our obligations are unspeakably 
great to the Author and Finisher of our 
faith. 

Such is the attachment of man to his 
own person, opinions, and interest, as often 
to render him insensible, or inconsiderate 
of the feelings, sentiments, and interests 
of others. The love of ourselves is nat- 
ural; and so far is Christianity from re- 
proving the passion, that it makes our 
self-love the standard by which we are to 
regulate our love to our neighbour. But 
between self-love and selfishness there is 
an essential and important distinction. He 
who loves his neighbour, as he loves him- 
self, will never be selfish. But our self- 
love degenerates into selfishness, in exact 
16 



122 

proportion as it predominates over the love 
which we owe to others. A christian is 
bound, under all circumstances, to do to 
others, as he knows it is the duty, and as 
he might reasonably expect of others to do 
to him. Actuated by this great law, his 
self-love will impel him to every office of 
equity and of kindness. It is a law, in the 
application of which no ingenuous mind 
can be mistaken ; and by which alone we 
might, without difficulty, determine the 
manner in which we ought to act, in every 
condition, relation, and circumstance of 
life. 

The gospel makes our self-love the 
standard, by which we are to regulate our 
love to our neighbour. This is evidently 
the spirit of the text, as it is also of the 
second commandment of our Lord, thou 
shall love thy neighbour as thyself. But 
the inquiry naturally arises, what is com- 
prehended in that self-love which the 
gospel approves, and which it makes the 
measure by which we are to determine the 
extent of our social obligations. In An- 



123 

swering this inquiry, and in applying it, 
we illustrate and enforce the duties which 
are inculcated in the text. 

There is a regard which every man may 
reasonably attach to his own person, to his 
own sentiments or opinions, to his interest 
and to his reputation ; and this attachment 
naturally excites a wish, and an expectation 
of the regard of others. Now whatever 
we might reasonably expect of others, that 
it is our duty, on all occasions to practise ; 
and to ascertain the extent of this obliga- 
tion, it is necessary, in imagination, to 
exchange conditions with others, and to 
ask ourselves, what regard does the letter, 
or the spirit of the gospel require, that in 
such circumstances, we should receive 
from those about us ? The inquiry, when 
seriously proposed, immediately receives 
the same answer from all. 

i. We remark the influence of self-love 
on the protection and care of our own 
persons. To defend them from injuries, 
and to relieve their sufferings, are among 
the most interesting objects of our cares 



124 

and our pursuits ; and often do they re- 
ceive protection and comfort from others, 
which neither our own skill nor exertions 
could obtain. This universal dependence 
of men on one another, resulting from the 
weakness of every individual, and his 
liability to suffer without assistance, is the 
strongest bond of our social union ; and 
we therefore reasonably expect from others 
a respect for our persons, and a readiness 
to defend and to assist us, so far as our 
conditions demand protection and aid. The 
duties of others to ourselves are not, in- 
deed, for a moment, doubted by any. Self- 
love is always awake, and in an instant 
suggests and enforces them by innumer- 
able and irresistible motives. But are not 
the same duties to others equally incum- 
bent on us, and enforced by as many and 
as powerful considerations? Let us can- 
didly apply the rule, and ingenuously 
admit the conclusions to which it leads us. 
We have no right to expect from others 
an equal love of our persons, and an equal 
interest in their welfare, as we feel for them 



125 

ourselves ; but we do reasonably expect 
that no one, without provocation, will in- 
jure them. We often expect, when we 
have injured others, that the evil will not 
be retaliated. Let these expectations 
govern our conduct towards others, and 
every one will be secure, in his person, 
against injuries from those with whom he 
has intercourse. All have a right to de- 
mand, and God will require of us, a regard 
to their persons, proportioned to these 
requisitions which self-love makes for our- 
selves ; — that is, not only that we refrain 
from inflicting suffering, but that we habit- 
ually exercise the mildness and forbearance 
of the christian temper; not only that we 
exert ourselves to avoid giving pain, but 
that we avail ourselves of every opportu- 
nity of alleviating distress. The person of 
another is as dear to him as ours is to us, 
and by exchanging conditions with him, 
our duties instantly become obvious. Is 
he in danger ? Fly to rescue him, and 
submit to the inconvenience or hazard 
which you would require? Is he afflicted 



126 

with disease ? Let the unwearied attention 
and uninterrupted kindness which you 
would wish to receive, be the measure by 
which to decide the kindness and attention 
which you owe to him. Is he naked ? Is 
he hungry ? You would wish, you would 
expect, if in this condition to be fed and 
clothed. Give freely then, of your bread, 
to those who need it, and comfortable 
raiment to him who is destitute. Remem- 
ber that thou mayest be a stranger, and re- 
ceive cheerfully into thy house him who has 
no habitation ; or who, far from his home, 
needs the shelter or the comforts which 
thou canst furnish. You have, perhaps, 
wanted the care, the sympathy, the benefi- 
cence which others demand of you. You 
may want them, even from those who now 
need, and implore your assistance. If these 
considerations do not awaken our regard 
for others, we are affected by a selfishness 
altogether inconsistent with the gospel. 

2. To the variety of sentiments which 
exist among men we are referred, as an- 
other source of numerous and important 



127 

relative duties. This diversity is apparent, 
not only when we speak of religion and of 
civil policy, but in almost every subject on 
which we converse ; and in proportion to 
the strength of our conviction of the recti- 
tude of our opinions, we must be con- 
vinced that those of others, who differ 
from us, are erroneous. This application 
of the rule requires us to remember, that 
the persuasion of another may be as firm 
as ours ; and consequently, that he may 
demand the same openness to conviction, 
which we should expect from himself. It 
requires us to realize, that the sentiments 
of another may appear to him as valuable 
and as important, as ours are to us, and to 
exercise towards him the charity, which he 
thinks that we need from himself. These 
are indeed sentiments, the tendency of 
which is so obviously evil, that we may 
reasonably doubt the correctness of the 
character of a man who avows them. Yet 
as we know that calumny and oppression 
irritate, rather than quiet the mind, and 
confirm instead of changing our opinions 



128 

it is a violation of the plainest social duties 
to revile and to persecute. An uncandid, 
and uncharitable, a censorious and an over- 
bearing temper, is the result of ignorance 
of our own liability to errour ; for they never 
were, and never will be indulged by those, 
who so judge others, as they would them- 
selves be judged. 

What an effect would this application of 
the text produce upon our own, and the 
virtue and happiness of society? More 
than half of the diversity of sentiments in 
religion, in politicks, and in the business 
of life, is maintained by a spirit of opposi- 
tion, which is excited by our self-ignorance ; 
and so generally are men ignorant of them- 
selves, and of course, so ready for opposi- 
tion, that a few ambitious, restless, and 
bigoted spirits, can easily keep the whole 
world in commotion. Many of the most 
distinguished promoters of this contrariety 
of opinions, and of this spirit of opposition, 
have no value for any sentiments, but as 
they may be rendered subservient to their 
own interests ; and many, who think that 



129 

they differ most widely, if brought together, 
and persuaded ingenuously to express their 
sentiments, would find, either that the dif- 
ference between them existed only in their 
imaginations ; or at most, that it was too 
inconsiderable to justify suspicion and en- 
mity. There is indeed a real difference in 
the opinions of men, and there must be, 
while human nature remains as it is. But 
let men do to others as they would that 
others should do to them, and the order 
and happiness of society would not be so 
often interrupted ; contention and strife 
would not be so frequent as they now are. 
If we were as candid and as charitable to 
others, as we would have them be to us, 
we should hear none of those slanderous 
reports, those false interpretations of the 
words or conduct of others, which originate 
in, and are circulated to gratify the worst 
passions ; a thousand walls of separation 
between man and man would be broken 
down ; and our progress would be rapid to 
that unity of spirit, and that perfection of 

17 



130 

love, in which essentially consists the king- 
dom of Christ. 

3. Every man desires the respect of 
others for his own chai'acter. The happi- 
ness of almost every one is essentially 
affected by the estimation in which he is 
held by those with whom he associates, or 
to whom he was known. In this applica- 
tion of the rule to far the greatest part of 
mankind, we might require only, that they 
treat the characters of others with the same 
tenderness which they would wish for 
themselves, if their own defects or vices 
were equally known to the world. We 
may, and should endeavour to know the 
characters of men, that we may know how 
to conduct our intercourse with them ; that 
we may duly appreciate the virtuous, de- 
fend the injured, and be excited ourselves 
to increasing vigilance ; — but let him who 
is without sin cast the first stone ; let him 
only condemn without mercy, who needs 
not the mercy of God for himself ; let con- 
science sit as judge in the court of our own 
minds, before we pronounce the sentence 



13* 

of reprobation upon others. If you have 
not committed crimes as great as have been 
committed by others, consider that, under 
similar circumstances, you might have been 
guilty of them ; — consider that, strong as 
you now stand, you are liable to fall ; and 
place yourself in the condition of him, of 
whom you are tempted to speak with con- 
tempt or with reproach. How do you wish 
to be viewed or treated by others, when 
you have done wrong, or have incurred 
suspicion ? The same gentleness and can- 
dour you are required to exercise. These 
dispositions you will exercise, if you know 
your own weakness, your evil propensities, 
and your sins. 

In determining the respect which we owe 
to men in the different ranks of life, let us 
place ourselves in their conditions. Have 
you a servant ? If you stood in the relation 
to him which he does to you, you would de- 
sire, you would love a spirit of kindness 
and of accommodation, and punctuality in 
the discharge of pecuniary obligations. So 
conduct towards him, and you will not only 



132 

promote his happiness, but secure his 
fidelity. Are you a servant ? Ask, then, 
what you would have a right to require, if 
you were a master ; and be as considerate 
of the interests of him whom you serve, as 
if they were your own. As a citizen, ex- 
ercise the subordination, the deference to 
the laws, which you might reasonably wish 
of others, if you had been appointed to 
rule ; and in all the relations and inter- 
courses of life, estimate the tenderness 
and respect which are due, by that which 
you are conscious, in the same circum- 
stances, you might consistently require. 
Honour others, as you would in their sit- 
uations be honoured. Judge them as 
favourably as you would be judged. De- 
fend them, when they are calumniated, 
with the same benevolent spirit with which 
you would wish to be vindicated. Then 
no parent would have reason to complain 
of his child, no friend of the desertion of 
him whom he loved, and no neighbour of 
the censoriousness of those about him ; — 
no master would have occasion to reproach 



133 

his servant, and no servant to blame his 
master ; — no magistrate would issue an 
unjust law, and no subject would rebel 
against the wise administration of the gov- 
ernment of his country. If this single law 
of the gospel were universally a rule of 
life, we might, without suspicion, entrust 
our reputations to others, and form and 
enjoy every relation, without fear of any 
other disappointment, than death might 
occasion. Happy state of society ! Blessed 
effects of the gospel ! When will this con- 
fidence, this candour, this fidelity, this con- 
descension and love prevail among men ? 

4. We are directed also to make our 
regard for our own interests, and the at- 
tention which we reasonably require to 
them, a measure by which to regulate our 
own regard to the interests of others. Who 
does not instantly anticipate the conse- 
quences of this application of the rule ? 

We would that men should be honest, 
where our interests are involved, and we 
deem it reasonable to demand an unre- 
served uprightness. But if our judg- 



134 

ments are unperverted by selfishness, this 
expectation of honesty in others, this clear 
discernment of their duties, will render our 
own equally perceptible, and equally obli- 
gatory. Preserve this integrity then in all 
your dealings, and you will so far fulfil the 
law. We can have no better security of 
uprightness, than the certainty that any 
one will conduct towards us with the fair- 
ness, which he would wish for himself; for 
as no one is willing to be deceived, no one 
would then be guilty of deception. But 
is this the principle on which business is 
transacted ? Look into the world. With 
what jealous caution are contracts made ; 
and how many bonds, independent of the 
honour of man, are deemed requisite, as 
securities that engagements will be accom- 
plished ? It seems to be an established 
maxim, to do to others, as we think that 
others would do to us ; and this maxim is 
so early and so impressively inculcated, 
that many, who are otherwise virtuous, 
appear to mistake this for the requirement 
of Christ. But it is a very different stand- 



135 

ard to which he requires his disciples to 
conform their conduct. However corrupt 
others may be, to be christians, we must 
do to them, as, in the sincerity and piety 
of our hearts, we wish that they should do 
to us. 

Innumerable opportunities occur, in which 
we may essentially aid the interests of 
others, or protect them from injury. We 
sometimes witness, or experience these 
beneficent offices, and they always attach 
us to him who performs them. These 
occasions of applying the text cannot be 
specified. They occur every day ; and He 
who observes the falling of a sparrow to 
the ground, will not be regardless of the 
man, who will turn out of his way to sug- 
gest to his neighbour an improvement 
which might be made ; or be delayed for a 
moment, that he may mend a gap, by 
which the field of another, when he was 
unconscious of it, was exposed to injury. 

This is one of the great laws by which 
we shall be judged at the bar of Christ. In 
this short compass has our divine teacher 



136 

expressed all the duties, which he requires 
from man to man ; and as no one is so 
ignorant that he cannot understand this 
law ; as no memory is so treacherous that 
it cannot retain it, all will be without ex- 
cuse by whom it is disregarded. A narrow, 
selfish spirit, is of all others the most 
inconsistent with the gospel. Be ye there- 
fore kind and affectionate one towards 
another ; and as ye would that men should 
do to you, do ye even so to them. For- 
give, because God has commanded it, and 
because ye feel your frailty, and ye shall be 
forgiven. Give, and it shall be given to 
you. Bear ye one another's burdens, and 
so fulfil the law of Christ. Let your fidelity 
equal your highest desires of others ; and 
let us consider every man as our brother, 
who has occasion for our integrity, or our 
kindness. By these social duties, and the 
pious and personal offices of the gospel, 
may we all be trained for an eternal union 
with the just made perfect, with the Re- 
deemer, and with God ! 



DISCOURSE V. 



ROMANS xiii. 8. 
Owe no man any thing, but to love one another. 

ONE of the best means of maintaining 
that love of others, which Christianity re- 
quires, is to owe them nothing but love. 
We owe love to all, because we are all 
mutually dependent, and there is no one 
whose sympathy or assistance we may not 
require ; because we are the offspring of the 
same parent, who made us to live together, 
and to love one another, as members of 
one family ; because all are capable of 
immortal improvement and happiness. 
This love indeed will excite us to every 
exertion to relieve the wants of others, 
18 



138 

and to extend to them every accommoda- 
tion which, in similar circumstances, we 
should wish for ourselves ; but the same 
love will impel him, who has received the 
favour, to that gratitude to his benefactor, 
and that kindness to others, which are the 
best returns for every office of benevo- 
lence ; and where, by borrowing or pur- 
chasing, he has incurred the obligation to 
pay, it will render him not less solicitous 
and active to satisfy the just demands of 
his creditor, than, if he were the creditor, 
he should desire for himself. 

Every duty growing out of our relations 
and intercourses is recognized in the gos- 
pel, and inculcated as a part of the service 
which we owe to God. This is a most 
important principle ; and I would to God, 
my brethren, that it were deeply impressed 
upon all our minds. We are too apt to 
consider religion and morality as distinct 
and independent ; and to believe that a 
man may have an incorruptible morality 
who has no piety, and that the prayers and 
conversations of some men stamp their 



139 

characters with the impression of piety, 
while they have at best an uncertain, or 
perhaps an obviously defective morality. 
It is often this very erroneous sentiment, 
which occasions the intrusion of unhal- 
lowed members into the church ; and it is 
the satisfaction with their own morality, 
which this sentiment awakens in others, 
which causes them to view with jealousy 
the professors of religion, and even to con- 
gratulate themselves in triumph, that they 
have made no acknowledgments of their 
faith and obligations. But let it be re- 
membered, that every duty, growing out 
of our relations and intercourses, is as 
essentially a part of the service of God, as 
the study of his word, and the exercises of 
prayer. Let it be remembered, that then 
only do we love God, when we keep his 
commandments ; that for all our sentiments, 
affections, and conduct, we shall be called 
into judgment ; and that it is essential to 
our preparation for a union with the just 
made perfect, that we love and faithfully 
practise in this world the righteousness of 



140 

the gospel. To one branch of this great 
law I invite your attention. " Owe no man 
any thing," says the word of God, "but to 
love one another." 

The principle, from which results the 
obligation to the payment of debts, is 
obvious ; and this obligation is as imperi- 
ous, as any one in the whole range of 
social morality. A debt implies an equiva- 
lent, or a consideration, received by our- 
selves, or by some one for whose punctual- 
ity we have made ourselves responsible. 
The acknowledgment of a debt, therefore, 
is an acknowledgment that so much of our 
possessions as we owe to another, belongs 
of right to him, and no longer to ourselves. 
This right in his property, of every one to 
whom he is indebted, every good man 
feels ; and therefore feels himself bound to 
the denial of every indulgence, which 
would interfere with the obligations into 
which he has entered with his creditor. 
He will deem his time and his labours to 
be in the right of his creditor, so far as 
they are necessary for the satisfaction of 



141 

his just demand. This is both law and 
gospel. Christianity does not indeed 
sanction the oppression of the poor and 
unfortunate, whose necessities have been 
the unhappy cause of the obligations which 
they have contracted ; or who, subse- 
quently to the contraction of debts, have 
been involved in calamities which render 
payment impossible. Here the great law 
of doing to others, as we would that others 
should do to us, requires the exercise of 
all the forbearance, and tenderness, and 
accommodation, which we should wish for 
ourselves ; but, in its turn, it demands of 
us all the efforts of our strength and skill, 
as speedily as possible, and to the extent 
of his rights, to satisfy him, whose forbear- 
ance and kindness we have experienced. 
Nor is the text to be interpreted as a pro- 
hibition, under any circumstances, to the 
contraction of debts. In civil society, this 
would be an impracticable command. But 
it plainly implies the duty of habitual 
caution not to owe, what we shall not be 
able to pay ; to be punctual in our pecu- 



142 

niary engagements ; and not to indulge in 
any expenses, or any modes of living, 
either inconsistent with this punctuality, or 
which will cause us to resort to debts for 
the maintainance of our stations. These 
duties, my brethren, will naturally flow 
from that love which Christianity inculcates ; 
and these duties I would enforce, by ex- 
hibiting some of the causes and the con- 
sequences of their neglect. 

There are some men of that invincible 
indolence, that .they are always willing to 
live upon others, while others can be in- 
duced by any means to support them ; and 
what they cannot obtain from charity, they 
procure by credit, without feeling a sensa- 
tion of uneasiness, till their little stock of 
honour, and the patience of those who 
have trusted them, are alike exhausted. 
An indolent man is satisfied, if his wants 
are supplied for the day which is passing 
over him ; and with indolence is generally 
united that deeply rooted selfishness, which 
represses every consideration of the incon- 
venience, or the unhappiness which he may 



143 

occasion to those who are relying on his 
integrity, and whose confidence he so easily 
abuses. Every debt thus contracted is in 
violation of the plainest principles of jus- 
tice ; and let a man make what professions 
he will, if he had rather borrow than labour, 
and owe another than support himself, he 
is without the pale of the church, and so 
far forfeits his relation to Christ. "This 
also," says Paul, "we commanded, if a man 
will not work, neither shall he eat." 

But indolence is not the only cause of 
the contraction of unjust debts. There are 
some men, who are not only active, but of 
a zeal in their pursuits which forbids every 
prudential consideration. They have ever 
some favourite project in operation, of the 
accomplishment of which they are certain ; 
some castle in the air, for which they have 
yet to provide a foundation ; and as these 
are not, commonly, men who have enriched 
themselves by their enterprises, they are 
obliged to depend on others, to whom they 
can make their projects almost as reason- 
able as to themselves ; and who are prom- 



144 

ised, if they will provide the foundation, 
the castle and all its riches may easily 
become their own. In this source have 
innumerable debts originated ; and by this 
cause have many, in their eagerness to 
swell a competency into a fortune, been 
stripped of all their possessions, and over- 
whelmed with wretchedness. 

This disposition to new and untried 
schemes, is generally a cause of misfortune, 
alike to him who forms, and to those who 
adopt them. Enterprise and improvements 
should indeed be encouraged ; but there is 
a wide difference between a mind which 
calmly investigates principles, and shews 
their results ; and which applies its skill to 
the diminution of human labour, to the 
advancement of the knowledge of man, and 
the increase of the comforts of life; and 
the wild suggestions of an undisciplined 
imagination, which fancies a work which is 
anticipated to be half accomplished ; or the 
uncurbed designs of men, anxious to ac- 
quire fortunes in a day, and regardless who 
are disappointed and ruined, if they are 



H5 

elevated and enriched. Of such designs 
have many unsuspecting individuals, many 
virtuous families become the victims ; and 
he who would avoid debt, and all its dis- 
tressing consequences, must avoid, as a 
certain means of inducing it, both the love 
of forming projects, and the indiscreet 
adoption of the schemes of the visionary. 

Another cause of iniquitous debts, is 
extravagance, induced by the love of pomp 
or of pleasure ; the habit of indulging 
freely in expence, without considering its 
tendencies. To have the means of in- 
dulging this expence, is all which some 
men desire ; and they think as little of the 
obligation which has been given for what 
has been received, as if a word at any 
moment might cancel it. This is bare- 
faced fraud and knavery. Perhaps indeed 
the mask of business is assumed to cover 
the deception. But the man who indulges 
his appetites, or his vanity, or any other 
passion, at the expence of others who rely 
on his integrity, and squanders the prop- 
erty which he obtained with the pretence 
19 



146 

of improving it, should be treated as the 
enemy of virtue and of social order. It is 
in the habits of such men that most of' the 
suspicion originates, which so strongly 
marks the intercourses of business. They 
injure all who confide in them, and corrupt 
all with whom they have intercourse. 

There are likewise men, who, without 
all this vice, essentially violate the great 
principles of justice, in their habitual ne- 
glect of pecuniary obligations. Some, 
from the mere gratification of retaining 
property in their possession, avail them- 
selves of every artifice to delay the satis- 
faction of demands, the right of which they 
acknowledge. This is an indisputable 
evidence of a contracted, a selfish and 
sordid mind. Others are not less negli- 
gent in the discharge of this important 
duty, from utter inconsideration. Property 
in their possession, becomes their own ; and 
having appropriated it to the purposes for 
which it was obtained, they think no more 
of him who may claim it, nor are aware 
at all of the disappointment which awaits 



H7 

them. Some very freely contract debts, 
which they hope, and flatter themselves, they 
shall be enabled to pay, without perhaps 
having any proper basis on which to build 
the expectation ; and others, having es- 
caped in a few instances the effects which 
they apprehended, have been emboldened 
to perseverance, till they have involved 
themselves in ruin. All these causes, in a 
greater or less .degree, are to be attributed 
to a deficiency of moral and religious 
principle ; to a neglect of the great duty of 
doing to others, as we would that they 
should do to us ; and to inconsideration of 
the account which we must all ultimately 
render, when the neglect or violation of 
integrity towards man, will be accounted 
unrighteousness towards God. In these 
causes originate very much of the vice and 
misery of life. 

We have said that, to this dishonesty is 
to be ascribed the jealousies, which so 
strongly mark all the intercourses of busi- 
ness. Many who felt not the cravings of 
avarice, nor any solicitude for the pomp of 



148 

wealth ; who commenced their career of 
life with the best resolutions of upright- 
ness, and who long and firmly maintained 
them, by the deceptions, the impositions 
which they have experienced, have been 
seduced to the same disingenuousness and 
duplicity, and become as vile as those by 
whom they were corrupted. Are not the 
instigators of this vice, then, in the sight 
of God, accountable for its consequences ? 
To trust an honest, but necessitous man, 
is one of the most grateful offices of life. 
It is a privilege for which they owe much 
to God, who are permitted to enjoy it. But 
how often are even the most upright, 
objects of suspicion, simply because men 
have been so often deceived, that they 
know not how to repose confidence in one 
another. This unhappy influence, pro- 
duced upon the minds of the rich, and 
which hasty and uncandid observers at- 
tribute in every instance to parsimony, is 
more frequently than we are aware to be 
attributed to a profligate dishonesty in 
many whom they have trusted. Unable to 



149 

discriminate, by the professions of men, 
between the virtuous and the base, they 
sometimes treat the base as virtuous, and 
deny their confidence and aid to the in- 
tegrity, which if better known, would be 
prized and honoured. Let the condemna- 
tion therefore, which is excited by this 
disappointment and suffering of the up- 
right, fall where it is due ; upon those 
who break obligations with as much facility 
as they break their bread ; and who regard 
not the miseries which they occasion to 
others, if they may gratify their passions, 
and enjoy the day as it passes them. 

A man who indulges himself in con- 
tracting debts, if he had it not before, 
generally acquires with this indulgence a 
habit of forming and of pursuing projects, 
which he thinks will most easily relieve 
him from his painful embarrassments. He 
becomes disgusted with the slow and 
monotonous efforts of the employment to 
which he was educated, plunges into new 
plans, and scarcely suspects his danger, 



i5o 

till he is irretrievably ruined. Shall I 
adduce examples ? — I forbear. 

In the consciousness of owing much 
which he knows not how to repay, means 
are suggested, from which conscience at 
first revolts with abhorrence. But does 
not the mind turn from these means of 
relieving its inquietude with less and less 
aversion, till at length it secretly justifies 
and adopts them ? This indeed is a dread- 
ful consequence of adventuring in debts, 
beyond our ability of payment ; but there 
is reason to fear that it is not unusual. At 
least, we have reason to believe, that this 
state of the mind has a strong tendency to 
diminish moral susceptibility ; and that, 
however vigorous are his exertions, his 
virtue is in incessant and the most immi- 
nent danger, who has permitted himself to 
be heavily burdened with a weight of 
pecuniary obligations. 

But why, my brethren, should I attempt 
to describe the agitations, the sufferings of 
a man, who either by indiscretion or 
extravagance, has involved himself in em- 



i5i 

barrassments, from which he knows not 
how to extricate himself? It requires no 
penetration to discern the artifices, by 
which he is labouring to deceive himself 
and others ; the anguish which preys upon 
his thoughts, in the apprehension of what 
he may yet have to experience. Perhaps, 
to cover the iniquity which must soon be 
exposed, he involves himself still more 
deeply ; and spreads wider the disappoint- 
ment and suffering, which the discovery of 
his guilt will occasion. — To protract the 
approach of his fall, or with the secret hope 
of recovering his lost possessions, he flies 
to the gaming table. — To forget himself, 
and those whom he has injured, he be- 
comes abandoned to intemperance. His 
wife and children are the victims of want 
and sorrow ; while he, an outcast from 
society, and condemned to the gloom of a 
prison, is perhaps cursed for his perfidy, 
and covered with disgrace. These are not, 
indeed, in every instance, the consequences 
of debts unjustly or imprudently con- 
tracted ; but to all these evils they cer- 



152 

tainly expose us ; and most impressively 
does each of them enjoin the apostolick 
injunction, "owe no man any thing, but to 
love one another/' 

A man who contracts a debt, which he 
has good reason to believe that he shall 
not be able to pay, or a man who withholds 
a debt, the justice of which he cannot deny, 
to the amount of the debt is guilty of de- 
liberate robbery in the sight of God. 

It is not a local evil to which the apostle 
refers in the text, but one which prevails 
in every society, and which is productive, 
wherever it prevails, of innumerable ca- 
lamities. It involves likewise so much 
vice, that it is surprising that the subject 
should not obtain the more frequent and 
solemn consideration of those, who are the 
professed guardians of publick morals, and 
whose office it is to persuade men to 
universal virtue. 

This subject, my brethren, has a nearer 
relation than at first we might imagine, to 
our interests in the life which awaits us. 
Of all our transactions in business we must 



153 

then render an account ; and every act of 
accommodation to the necessitous, every 
sacrifice which we have made to integrity, 
will receive its reward ; every instance of 
fidelity in our engagements, from a princi- 
ple of obedience to the will of God, will be 
graciously accepted. And then too will 
every artifice of deceivers be exposed ; 
every mean advantage which they have 
taken of others, and every act of oppres- 
sion, which they have done or promoted. 
Every work of darkness will be brought to 
light, and every counsel of every heart will 
be judged. Is not this a subject then of 
universal, of most solemn interest ? 

As a brother, I would caution the young 
religiously to avoid all those projects and 
indulgences, which, by involving them in 
debt, will embarrass all their exertions, 
expose their integrity to innumerable 
temptations, and render their lives a prey 
to cares and sorrow. Let the fairness and 
honesty of the gospel characterize all your 
dealings ; and never hesitate at the loss of 
any earthly good, which you must part 
20 



154 

with to retain your uprightness. Let the 
resolution of holy Job, "till I die, I will 
not remove my integrity from me," be 
deliberately and unreservedly adopted. 
To the upright, there will arise light in the 
darkness ; but the candle of the wicked 
shall be put out. 

Brethren, let us love one another, for 
love is of God ; but while we receive and 
exercise the accommodation of christians, 
let us, as far as it is practicable, owe no 
man anything but love. In all our inter- 
courses of business, let us feel the presence 
of Him who will call us into judgment and 
be restrained from every act of injustice. 
The day is coming, in which the wages of 
iniquity will be deemed but a miserable 
compensation for the reproaches of a guilty 
conscience. In that day may our hearts 
be gladdened, by the remembrance of 
temptations successfully resisted, and by 
His approbation of our virtue, whose fa- 
vour is eternal life and happiness ! 



DISCOURSE VI. 



MATTHEW v. 44, 45. 

Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do 
good to them that hate you, and pray for them which 
despitefully use you, and persecute you ; that ye may 
be the children of your Father which is in heaven ; 

For He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and 

on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on 
the mijust. 

HOW often, my brethren, while pon- 
dering upon the instructions of our divine 
Saviour, does the pious mind repeat the 
exclamation, " never man spake like this 
man ! " To repress resentment, though it 
be secretly cherished, is deemed, by men 
of the world, a considerable attainment in 
virtue. To forgive offences has been con- 
sidered the sublime of self-command, and 



156 

of devotion to duty ; and it is an elevation 
of virtue which few habitually maintain. 
But Jesus Christ requires far more of all 
his followers. To be his disciples, we must 
love our enemies ; we must bless them 
that curse us, do good to them that hate us, 
and pray for them that despitefully use us, 
and persecute us. Did ever man speak 
like this man ! 

Our text exhibits one of the character- 
isticks of the morality of the gospel ; a 
morality which disdains the smallest ac- 
commodation to the prejudices or the 
vices of the world. It was addressed to 
men who had been taught to cherish an 
eternal hatred of all, who did not conform, 
in every particular, to their own rites and 
traditions. Israelites who denied the law 
and the prophets, and Gentiles of every 
nation, were not considered, by the Jewish 
doctors, as objects of the command, "thou 
shalt not kill ;" and they justified alike the 
open and secret murder of heretics whom 
they could not reclaim. To this exposition 
of the law, they admitted indeed exceptions ; 



157 

forbidding the wanton destruction of Gen- 
tiles with whom they were not at war, of 
shepherds who peaceably kept their little 
flocks, and others of this kind ; but at the 
same time they prohibited a Jew, if he 
should see one of them falling into the sea, 
to use any means for his rescue.* Some 
of these doctors were perhaps among the 
hearers of the sermon on the mount ; and 
very many who had received their inter- 
pretations, as of equal authority with the 
divine commands. Nay, so much had this 
hatred of every other people become a 
national sentiment, that a Roman historian 
of the first century of the christian sera, 
when speaking of the Jews, observes, they 
are faithful towards each other, and ready 
to exercise the offices of benevolence, but 
to men of every other country they are the 
most implacable enemies. These were the 
men to whom Jesus said, " bless them that 
curse you, do good to them that hate you, 
and pray for them that despitefully use 
and persecute you." It was a precept with 

* See Lightfoot's Horae Hebraicae, Mat. v. 33. 



158 

which all their passions and their habits 
were at war. Yet no attempt is made to 
reconcile these adverse principles. To be 
his disciples, to be the children of God, 
their resentment, and every passion by 
which it was excited, must be brought into 
subjection ; they must exercise towards all 
others the forbearance and benevolence, 
which God was every day exercising to- 
wards them. Does not the duty, in this 
view of it, approve itself to the reason of 
every ingenuous mind ? Observe the 
beautiful gradation in the command, and 
the motive by which it is enforced. Love 
your enemies. Shew that you love them, 
by returning blessings for curses ; by pity- 
ing and forgiving them ; by addressing 
them in the language of kindness and of 
pardon ; and pray to God that he may 
forgive them, that they be preserved as 
well from the future, as from the present 
effects of their ungoverned passions. In 
this resemblance of God, he will recognize 
you as his children ; for he is kind to the 
evil and to the unthankful. He maketh 



159 

his sun to rise on the good and on the 
evil ; and sendeth rain on the just and on 
the unjust. 

Our Saviour was not indeed the first 
who taught the forgiveness of injuries. It 
was inculcated by the most distinguished 
philosopher of Greece, four hundred years 
before the appearance of Christ, and most 
admirably illustrated by his example.* "To 
repress resentment is honourable to human 
nature, " says a heathen biographer and 
moralist. f "But to feel pity for the mis- 
fortunes of an enemy, to listen to his sup- 
plications, to be ready to relieve him and 
his children in their embarrassments, dis- 
covers a disposition, which he who loves 
not, has a heart which is black, and fabri- 
cated of adamant or iron. ,, The duty has 
probably been acknowledged by a few of 
the wise and good of every age of the 
world ; but it had not formed a part of the 
religious code of any nation, except the 
Jewish, and by them was so imperfectly 
understood, and so obscured by idle and 

* Socrates. f Plutarch. See Grotius upon the text. 



i6o 

selfish expositions, that its very existence 
could be known only by a recurrence to 
their laws. But it forms one of the most 
prominent features in the christian system ; 
and our habitual observance of the duty is 
one of the conditions, on which we are 
taught to hope for the mercy of God. 
From the instructions and the example of 
Christ, I would therefore define its nature 
and its extent. This is the object of our 
discourse ; and may God bestow on it his 
blessing ! 

The passion of anger forms a part of our 
moral constitutions, as much as love, or 
fear, or any other passion ; and we have 
therefore reason to presume that it was 
intended, like other passions, for good, and 
not for evil ; that it is to be governed, and 
not destroyed. With this intimation of 
reason, let us compare the instructions of 
the gospel ; and in this, as in every other 
instance, we shall find that they are deeply 
founded in the nature of man. 

"If it be possible," says St. Paul, "as 
much as lieth in you, live peaceably with 



i6i 

all men."* The command implies, if it be 
not impossible, that it is at least extremely 
difficult, to live peaceably with some men. 
Their irritable and obstinate tempers are so 
easily and so frequently excited, and, though 
the most unaccommodating of men, they 
are so unjust in their demands upon others, 
and are rendered so imperious and cruel 
by indulgence, that we must not only 
sacrifice our comfort, but our very virtue, 
or our lives, if we would maintain tran- 
quillity by the gratification of their hu- 
mours. With such men, as far as it is 
possible, in consistency with a conscience 
void of offence, we are to preserve peace, 
avoiding as much as we can every cause of 
provocation ; and rather to endure many 
wrongs than to retaliate. "Hence," says 
the apostle in the succeeding verse, 
"dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, 
but rather give place unto wrath ; " that is, 
patiently wait for the resentments, the 
judgments of God ; "for it is written, ven- 
geance is mine, I will repay, saith the 

* Rom. xii. 19. 
21 



l62 

Lord." Here it is supposed that indigna- 
tion of unwarranted injuries may be felt by 
the best of men ; but between this emo- 
tion, and the desire of revenge, the 
distinction is most cautiously preserved. 
Were it not that anger is naturally and 
irresistibly excited by great and undeserved 
indignities or wrongs, the requirement 
would be without force, and almost without 
meaning, "if it be possible, as much as 
lieth in you, live peaceably with all men." 
But supposing, as it does, not only the 
existence of the passion, but its very pow- 
erful influence, it provides not only against 
all its excesses, but against the circum- 
stances by which it is excited. If it be 
impossible to live peaceably with any man, 
do not unnecessarily exasperate him. Ex- 
ercise towards him the gentleness and 
accommodation of the christian temper. 
But if he will be offended and injure you, 
though you feel indignant, do not seek 
satisfaction in revenge. From the evils 
against which the laws will not defend you, 
trust your vindication to God. He will 



163 

assert your good name against every 
calumny ; He will repay you for every 
wrong. This I believe is the spirit of the 
command ; and every well ordered and 
ingenuous mind will acknowledge its wis- 
dom, and submit to its influence. 

"Be ye angry, and sin not; let not the 
sun go down upon your wrath ; neither 
give place to the devil. "* 

Here it is supposed that anger may 
glance into the breast of a wise, a pious 
man ; and where is the man who has not 
felt it ? But to feel the passion is not evil, 
because it is necessary, and unavoidable. 
It would be absurd to say, though ye be 
angry, do not sin, if anger itself, in its first 
excitement, was sin. The distinction made 
by the apostle proves, that the passion 
then only becomes evil, when it is cherished 
and indulged. Anger, says Solomon, rests, 
or degenerates into revenge, only in the 
bosom of fools, or of the wicked. To 
prevent this degeneracy, the apostle adds, 
44 let not the sun go down upon your wrath, 

* Eph. iv. 26, 27. 



164 

neither give place to the devil ; or to the 
infernal spirit of resentment/' It is a rule 
admirably adapted to secure us against the 
dreadful excesses of this passion. Let all 
the differences of every day be adjusted 
before the setting of the sun ; or at least, 
before this time, let anger be subjected to 
the restraints of the will of God, and every 
thought of retaliation banished from the 
mind, and the passion would soon become 
easily reducible to the authority of reason, 
and of the divine laws. We should not 
only know, by our own experience, that it 
is possible to be angry and not to sin, but 
we should every day be more cautious of 
giving offence, and better able to bear it. 
By the knowledge which we should thus 
acquire of our own hearts, we should con- 
stantly be more easily induced to pity and 
forgive those, who are the victims of a 
passion which we have learned to controul, 
and whom we know frequently to suffer 
more, than with all their malignity they 
are able to inflict. 

" Whosoever shall be angry with his 



i65 

brother without a cause, shall be in danger 
of the judgment." * Here our Lord sup- 
poses that there may be a cause which will 
justify anger. The question then arises, 
when is the passion justified ? Before we 
attempt to answer this inquiry, it is neces- 
sary to observe, that it is simply anger, or 
indignation excited by wrong or injury, to 
which he alludes, and not resentment ; for 
the gospel does not admit any cause as a 
justification of revenge. In what instance 
then can we justify anger? Every man 
supposes, when he feels the passion, that 
he has cause to feel it. But the inquiry is 
too important, it involves too much, to be 
hastily decided by the opinions of irascible 
men. It must be acknowledged too, that 
in the vast variety of provocations and 
injuries, by which anger is excited, so 
much do they often resemble each other, 
and so blended one with the other are the 
shades of their guilt, that in our coolest 
moments, and with all our powers of dis- 
crimination, it is not a little difficult to 

* Matth. v. 22. 



1 66 

determine precisely, upon christian prin- 
ciples, the boundary which separates jus- 
tifiable from unlawful anger. St. Mark 
has mentioned two instances in which the 
passion was felt by our Lord. And an 
incident is related by St. John, which 
obviously implies it. When the Pharisees 
watched him, to know whether, on the 
sabbath day, he would heal a man with a 
withered hand, he looked round about on 
them with anger, being grieved for the 
hardness of their hearts. * He was grieved 
for them, while he was indignant at the 
offence which they had committed. We 
must admit this distinction, for anger and 
grief could not, at the same moment, be 
exercised upon the same object. What 
then was the offence of the Pharisees ? It 
involved a denial of his divine mission, 
which he had attested by the most won- 
derful miracles ; and an endeavour, as far 
as possible, to counteract the purposes for 
which he came into the world. It was an 
offence committed against the light, both 

♦Mark iii, 2 — 5. 



167 

of their own scriptures and of their reasons. 
It was the greatest injury which they could 
possibly have done, either to others or to 
themselves. If any cause can justify 
anger, surely it is this. He was indignant 
against an offence committed against such 
light, such motives, and involving conse- 
quences so extensive and awful; — but he 
pitied the offenders, instead of pursuing 
them with resentment. — Again, says St. 
Mark, "they brought young children to 
him, that he should touch them ; and his 
disciples rebuked those who brought them. 
But when Jesus saw it, he was much dis- 
pleased ; " he was moved with indignation. 
Thus is the expression repeatedly rendered 
in the New Testament.* 55, He was indig- 
nant at the offence of their resistance ; but 
he expressed towards them no resentment. 
They would have restrained parents from 
the attainment of one of the choicest 
privileges for their children, the blessing 
of their Saviour ; a privilege which, thanks 
to God, still continues to be the rich 

* See Matth. x. 24. and xxvi. 8. and Luke xiii. 14. 



i68 

inheritance of his church ; — and Jesus 
could not but behold them with much 
displeasure. — We are informed also by 
St. John,* that when our Lord went up to 
Jerusalem, to celebrate the first passover 
which occurred after his ministry, "he 
found in the temple those that sold oxen, 
and sheep, and doves, and the changers of 
money, sitting." The oxen and doves 
were sold for the accommodation of those, 
who could not bring their sacrifices with 
them ; and the money changers, in ex- 
change for other coin, furnished the half 
shekel, which the law required that every 
man should offer.f The traffick in itself 
was lawful ; but it was unlawful, it was 
impious, to pursue it within the limits of 
the temple, to convert the house of God 
into a place of merchandise. To have 
viewed this profanation with indifference 
was impossible. In Jesus, it excited an 
irresistible sentiment of abhorrence ; and 
what he strongly felt, he as strongly ex- 

*Chap. ii. ver. 13 & seq. 
fSee Exod. xxx. 13, 15. 



169 

pressed. He made a scourge of small 
cords, and drove them all out of the 
temple, and the sheep and the oxen ; and 
poured out the changers' money, and over- 
threw the tables ; and said unto them that 
sold doves, "take these things hence; 
make not my Father's house a house of 
merchandize." How strong must have 
been the indignation, which excited the 
meek and benevolent Saviour of men to 
such an act of violence? But it was as 
distinct from revenge, as it was from ap- 
probation. It was not the injury of the 
persons that he designed, but the punish- 
ment of the offence ; an expression of his 
abhorrence of the profanation of the place, 
which was consecrated to the worship of 
God. If then, from the example of Christ, 
we infer the causes which will justify anger, 
the number will be comparatively small. 
The offence must involve important con- 
sequences. It must originate in the evil 
passions of him who commits it ; and our 
indignation must be wholly devoid of sel- 
fishness. The gospel does not recognise, 
22 



170 

in the little disappointments and perplex- 
ities of every day, the justification of an 
irritable and petulant temper ; nor does it 
admit, as a cause of anger, the insults and 
injuries to which men are exposed, in the 
common business or intercourses of life. 
When exposed to such offences, our Lord 
exhibited no impatience ; he uttered no 
expression of anger. He had no jealousy 
to be excited ; no pride to be mortified ; 
no contracted and selfish feelings to gratify. 
He did not consider for a moment, to what 
motives men might attribute his gentle- 
ness and forbearance. If the offence in- 
volved only his own inconvenience or 
suffering, his pity, but not his anger, was 
awakened. If restrained within these 
limits, anger is not sin. When the laws 
of God and of man are essentially violated 
by wanton injustice, we must feel indigna- 
tion, if we love order and virtue ; but, like 
our Lord, we are to attach anger to the 
offence, and not to the offender. This is 
no unwarrantable refinement. It is founded 
in scripture, and it is practicable ; and must 



i7i 

necessarily be admitted, if we could recon- 
cile, in any instance, the smallest indul- 
gence of anger, with that forgiveness and 
love of our enemies, which the gospel 
demands as a condition of salvation. 

But though the gospel supposes that 
anger may be felt by christians, and that 
there may be causes which justify it, it 
utterly forbids retaliation, or revenge. 
" Ye have heard "that it hath been said, an 
eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." 
These were punishments which the judges, 
but not the injured, were permitted to in- 
flict under the Jewish law. It is strictly 
the law of retaliation ; and he who had 
received injury, had a right to demand its 
execution. By the same law, a relation of 
one who was murdered, was allowed with 
impunity to take the life of the murderer. 
"But I say unto you/' said Jesus, "that ye 
resist not evil ; but whosoever shall smite 
thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the 
other also ; and if any man will sue thee 
at the law, and take away thy coat, give 
him thy cloak also ; and whosoever shall 



172 

compel thee to go a mile, go with him 
twain. " The command, indeed, is not to 
be interpreted without restrictions, any- 
more than the requirement to hate father 
and mother, husband and wife, and even 
our own lives. But it implies, at least, 
that we should not revenge these indig- 
nities and privations. It is parallel with, 
and best explained by the commands, Be 
not overcome of evil, but overcome evil 
with good ; and, If thine enemy hunger, 
feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink. It 
implies that we should rather suffer a 
repetition of wrongs, than avenge our- 
selves by a return of violence. With these 
illustrations in our view, I would endeavour 
to mark the nature and extent of that for- 
giveness and love of our enemies, which 
the gospel inculcates. 

Our Lord has defined the nature of 
forgiveness in our text. The Jews had 
been taught, not by the law of Moses, but 
by their own scribes, the appointed teachers 
of the law, to love their neighbours, or all 
who were Jews, but to hate their enemies, 



173 

or all who were Gentiles. This is the 
sentiment which our Lord particularly 
opposes in the text. But that he had 
reference also to the private enmities 
which they felt towards each other, is 
evident from the appeal which he immedi- 
ately added, If ye love those who love you, 
what reward have you ? Do not even the 
publicans and sinners, whom you hate, the 
same ? And if ye salute your brethren 
only, do not even the publicans so ? What 
then is the love, the forgiveness, which 
Jesus demanded ? It is, and must be, an 
affection, which is consistent with indigna- 
tion at the offence which has been com- 
mitted. It consists of pity of the disposition 
in which the evil originated, and a willing- 
ness to endure any insults or wrongs rather 
than to revenge them. It embraces not 
only a desire of the reformation of the 
offender, but a readiness to return good 
for evil, and blessings for curses. It is an 
affection which will excite us to seek for 
the injurer the pardon of God. It is a for- 
giveness as entire, as we hope to receive 



174 

from God of our own sins. It is the same 
forbearance and love which God is every 
day exercising towards the evil and un- 
thankful, continuing to them the blessings 
which they have forfeited, and by his 
mercies calling them to repentance. All 
this is included in the precept, "love your 
enemies, bless them that curse you, do 
good to them that hate you, and pray for 
them who despitefully use you and perse- 
cute you, that ye may be the children of 
your Father who is in heaven ; for He 
maketh His sun to rise on the good and 
on the evil, and sendeth rain on the just 
and on the unjust." 

From this precept, likewise, might we 
deduce the extent of christian forgiveness. 
It is adapted to guard every avenue of the 
heart against the entrance of resentment ; 
to prepare it for every trial, and to secure 
its successful resistance of every evil pas- 
sion. But notwithstanding the plainness 
of this command, the means which it pre- 
scribes of obeying it, and the motives by 
which it is enforced ; notwithstanding the 



175 

frequency, and the varied manner of its 
repetition, even the apostles did not fully 
comprehend its meaning. How often, said 
Peter, shall my brother sin against me, and 
I forgive him ? Till seven times ? Suppose 
the inquiry had been proposed to a Roman 
philosopher; to him who is admitted to 
have been the wisest and the best man, as 
well as the most consummate orator which 
Rome ever produced. What would have 
been his answer? It is written in his 
familiar letters to his friends. "I hate the 
man, said he, and will hate him, and wish 
that I could be revenged." "I would re- 
venge every crime according to the degree 
of its provocation." * Suppose it to have 
been proposed to a Jewish teacher. We 
have his answer in the decrees of their 
doctors. "Three offences are to be for- 
given, but not the fourth." But what was 
the reply of Jesus ? Observe it, my breth- 
ren ; and remark in it the extent of that 
forgiveness which he requires us to exer- 
cise. " Shall I forgive my brother seven 

* Grotius de verit. relig. christ. lib. 2. 1 2. 



176 

times ?" Without doubt Peter proposed 
this inquiry, with a full conviction that it 
would obtain the admiration and applause 
of Jesus ; and it probably implied a benev- 
olence, of which he had never formed any 
conception, till he had become a follower 
of Christ. " Shall I forgive my brother 
seven times ?" "I say not unto thee," 
said Jesus, "until seven times; but until 
seventy times seven. " Thou shalt forgive 
as frequently as provocations are renewed. 
Thou shalt never revenge. "Shouldst not 
thou have compassion on thy fellow ser- 
vant, even as thy Lord had pity on thee ? 
If thou hopest that God will forgive thee 
thy debt of ten thousand talents, shouldst 
not thou forgive thy fellow servant, who 
owest thee an hundred pence?" The 
precept is perfect. It admits of no ad- 
ditions and no exceptions. Let us view 
its illustration in the example of Christ. 

We have adverted to the tenderness, 
the grief 'which our Lord exhibited towards 
those, who were watching whether he 
would heal on the sabbath day, that they 



177 

might accuse him. It was in his mind a 
sentiment far stronger, than the indigna- 
tion which their conduct excited ; for of 
this we have no evidence in any expression 
which he uttered. His language was the 
most dispassionate, the most worthy of his 
character. " Is it lawful, " said he, "to do 
good on the sabbath day, or to do evil ; to 
save life or to kill?" By the same class 
of men he was perpetually followed with 
the most insidious designs ; at one time 
proposing inquiries, the answers to which, 
they imagined, must necessarily expose 
him to the judgments, either of the civil 
or the ecclesiastical authorities; and at 
another, attributing the most beneficent 
exertions to infernal agency. But, instead 
of repulsing them with angry revilings, he 
never failed to resolve the doubts which 
they suggested, and to renew in their 
presence those evidences of his divine 
mission, which were adapted to produce 
conviction, and grateful acknowledgment. 
How admirably did this conduct illustrate 
and enforce the requirement, "do good to 

2 3 



1 78 

them that hate you?" He denounced 
indeed the most awful judgments against 
the scribes and pharisees. He called them 
hypocrites ; he compared them to whited 
sepulchres, and to graves which appear 
not. But he applied every means of 
bringing them to repentance. He prac- 
tised towards them all the forgiveness and 
the affection which he inculcated. Under 
the most accumulated insults and injuries, 
his forbearance was perfect. We discover 
no feeling, but of compassion for his 
enemies. We hear no expression, which 
is not adapted to convert their wrath into 
penitential sorrow, the warmest love, and 
the most entire devotion to his service. 
His pity for their blindness, their obduracy, 
and his zeal for their reformation, were 
greater even than their own vengeance. 
He did not cease, even to the last moment 
of life, to seek for them the compassion, 
the pardon of God. This is christian for- 
giveness. It is to pity the offender, while 
we are indignant at the offence. It is to 
return for the curses of those who would 



179 

injure us, prayers to God for their pardon 
and reformation ; and every benevolent 
effort which their circumstances may re- 
quire, for the malignant purposes which 
they have formed, or have accomplished 
against us. It is to be merciful to them, 
as God is merciful to us. It is to forgive, 
as we hope to be forgiven. All this is 
comprehended in that love of our enemies 
which the gospel inculcates. All this is 
taught as clearly, and far more impressively, 
in the example, as in the precepts of Christ. 
Let this mind then be in us, which was 
also in our divine Teacher and Saviour. 
Let us learn of him, when reviled, never 
to revile again, and when suffering, never 
to threaten revenge, With the anger 
which is excited by an offence, let us feel 
grief for the unhappy offender. Let us 
pity his disposition, be admonished against 
its indulgence, and be ready to exercise 
towards him every office of christian be- 
nevolence. That no desire of retaliation, 
that no sentiment of revenge may rankle 
in our hearts, let us seek for him the 



i So 

pardon and blessing of God. This is one 
of the conditions on which we are taught 
to hope for the forgiveness of our own 
sins. May God enable us to comply with 
it ! Putting away wrath and clamour, and 
evil speaking, be ye kindly affectioned one 
towards another, forbearing and forgiving, 
even as ye hope that God, for Christ's 
sake, will forgive us. To Him be glory 
forever. AMEN ! 



DISCOURSE VII 



REVELATIONS i. 10. 
I was in the spirit on the Lord's day. 

An acknowledgment of the being and 
government of God, and of the depend- 
ence and obligations of man, involves 
the duty of expressing to our Creator and 
Benefactor the homage of our adoration, 
our gratitude, and our submission. The 
obligation to worship God is indeed as 
obvious from the deductions of reason, as 
from the requirements of revelation ; and 
he is as irrational, as he is impious, by 
whom the duty is denied, or wantonly 
violated. 

It cannot, however, have escaped the 
notice of any, who are familiar with the 



182 

scriptures, how important the institution 
of the sabbath was regarded by God, and 
with what frequency and solemnity the 
command to observe it was repeated, under 
each of the ancient dispensations. On a 
subject so interesting, man was not left to 
the guidance of reason alone. Even in 
paradise, where he was admitted to the 
most intimate communion with God, and 
where we may suppose that a considerable 
portion of every day was appropriated to 
the offices of devotion ; in paradise, where 
man was restricted only by one prohibi- 
tion, and before his understanding had 
become perverted, and his affections de- 
praved, God required the consecration of 
the sabbath peculiarly to his service. When 
he rested on the seventh day of the world, 
he blessed, and sanctified it. Under every 
economy, it was, perhaps, the most effect- 
ual barrier against the idolatry and vice, 
by which his people was surrounded ; and 
if every encroachment upon it had been 
early and resolutely resisted, they would 
have escaped innumerable judgments. The 



1 83 

sabbath was constantly and reverently ob- 
served by our Lord ; and though the day 
was changed from the seventh, to the first 
of the week, in memory of his resurrection, 
his faithful disciples, in every succeeding 
age, have imitated his example, and de- 
voted a seventh portion of their time, to 
the peculiar duties and offices of religion. 
I cannot suppose that this change was 
made by the apostles, unauthorized by 
their Master. Many and important com- 
munications were made to them after his 
resurrection ; and I am persuaded, that 
the observance of this day as a sabbath, 
was then appointed by Christ. With all 
their zeal and boldness, they would not 
have dared to make this change, without 
an express command. Being the day in 
which he rose from the dead, it was called 
the Lord's day, the sabbath of christians. 
The sabbath of the Jews was instituted to 
commemorate the completion of the crea- 
tion of the world. The christian sabbath 
commemorates an event infinitely more 
interesting, the resurrection of the Author 



1 84 

of our faith. It is the day in which Christ 
triumphed over death. How appropriate, 
then, is the designation ! With what pious 
gratitude should we hail this day, and with 
what fidelity consecrate it to the worship 
of God ! 

"I was in the spirit," says St. John, "on 
the Lord's day." The expression, "in the 
spirit," refers to that state of the mind, 
which is produced by the reception of any 
extraordinary divine influence. It is sy- 
nonymous with the expression of St. Luke 
concerning Peter, "he fell into a trance ;" 
and perhaps with what Paul says of him- 
self, that he "was caught up into the third 
heavens." When "in the spirit," he re- 
ceived the revelations, which contain the 
history of the church to its latest ages ; 
and these revelations were made to him 
"on the Lord's day." It is with reference 
only to the name of the day, that I have 
selected the text ; and I could avail myself 
of it, to shew our obligations to its observ- 
ance ; the objects to which it should be 
appropriated ; the benefits of which it may 



i85 

be productive ; and the causes and conse- 
quences of its neglect. These are subjects 
of sufficient interest and importance to 
demand attention. 

i. We should observe this day, because 
it wasy^r us that Christ taught, and suf- 
fered, and died, and rose from the dead. 
We are bound to its observance by motives 
as numerous, as our obligations to the 
Saviour. And can you number, can you 
repay these obligations ? I refer you only 
to some of the most prominent, as excite- 
ments to keep holy this day of the Lord. 

To Christ we are indebted for our 
knowledge of God. The world by its own 
wisdom, never knew God. Before the 
christian era, he was worshipped by no 
nation, except the Jews. In ages and 
countries the most polished and learned, 
scarcely less ignorance prevailed of God 
and of his worship, than in the most un- 
enlightened times, and the most barbarous 
state of society. In the most refined city 
of heathen antiquity, the most distin- 
guished philosopher and best citizen was 
24 



1 86 

condemned to suffer death, because he 
taught the existence of one God. With- 
out a revelation, without the gospel, we 
might at this moment have been in equal 
ignorance and depravity. Here then is a 
motive to the observance of this day ; for 
we celebrate his resurrection, who has 
taught us what God is, and what is the 
service which he requires of his rational 
family. — To Christ we are also indebted 
for our knowledge of the will of God. I 
do not say that all the laws of the gospel 
were unknown, till they were promulgated 
by the Saviour; but the gospel itself 
furnishes abundant evidence, how con- 
fused and inadequate were the sentiments 
of virtue which prevailed both among Jews 
and heathens, at the time of the appearing 
of Christ. He separated truth from the 
errour with which it was mingled, taught 
it in its perfect purity, and enforced it at 
once by the most interesting and awful 
motives, which were ever proposed to 
influence the conduct of man. By all the 
benefits and pleasures which result from 



i8 7 

our knowledge of the divine will, we are 
therefore bound to celebrate the day of the 
resurrection of our Lord. — From him like- 
wise have we derived the assurance, that 
sin may be forgiven, and that God will 
admit the penitent offender to all the 
honours and happiness of his kingdom. 
He came to bind up the broken hearted, 
to preach deliverance to the captives, and 
to die the just for the unjust. We can 
obtain assurance of the forgiveness of sins, 
only from the gospel : It is offered to re- 
penting sinners, only through faith in the 
blood of Christ. By rising from the dead, 
he demonstrated the efficacy of his cross. 
And should we not therefore keep holy 
the day, distinguished by a triumph so 
glorious ? If we are sensible of the guilt 
of our sins, and feel the repentance which 
Jesus requires, every faculty of our souls 
will be engaged, on this day, in rendering 
to God the homage which he claims. It is 
through Christ also that we have access to 
God in prayer ; and to him we are in- 
debted for the confidence, with which we 



i88 

may approach the throne of the Almighty ; 
for the consolation, strength, and joy, of 
which this holy intercourse is productive. 
We are taught to ask for every blessing in 
his name ; to hope for every spiritual good, 
through the influence of the grace which 
he has brought to the world. What day, 
then, can be so interesting to christians, as 
that of the resurrection of their Lord ? 
What institution is enforced by more pow- 
erful motives ? 

2. We should observe the christian 
sabbath, because it is at once an emblem 
of heaven, and a means of its attainment. 
Engaged as we are through the week in 
the toils of business, and the pursuit of 
pleasure, and experiencing all the cares, 
and the alternate elevations and depres- 
sions of success and of misfortune, what 
would be the condition of society, if there 
was no season of repose, and of serious 
reflection ? On this day we are called to 
consider, that this world is not our home ; 
that we were created for employments and 
for gratifications infinitely higher than 



1 89 

those to which we are excited by our 
senses ; that we are accountable for all our 
advantages and our conduct ; and that our 
condition in eternity will depend on the 
tastes, the affections, and the habits, which 
we form in this world. In the employ- 
ments of this day, does the faithful dis- 
ciple of Christ find his principles of piety 
and virtue to acquire new strength, his 
hopes to be raised, his erroneous senti- 
ments corrected, and his heart and his life 
made better. In these employments, and 
in the anticipations which they awaken, he 
finds that peace which the world cannot 
give him ; he feels his capacity of immor- 
tal happiness, in the presence of his Re- 
deemer and his God. And are not these 
sources of obligation to the observance of 
this day? If we are christians, we shall 
feel these effects of the sabbath ; and if 
we feel them, we shall acknowledge the 
duty of hallowing the day peculiarly to the 
service of God. 

But what are the objects to which this 



190 

day should be appropriated? I will en- 
deavour to answer this inquiry. 

1. As the sabbath which we observe, 
in compliance with the original appoint- 
ment of God, consists of a seventh part of 
time, it should be devoted to purposes 
consistent with the design of God, in 
blessing and sanctifying the seventh day. 
Most men, during the business of the 
week, find but little time for self-examina- 
tion, for the study of the scriptures, and 
for private devotion ; or if they have 
leisure, claim it for indulgence in the 
amusements of the world. On the sab- 
bath, these duties should obtain peculiar 
attention. We should inquire what we 
have been doing ; what are the principles 
and motives by which we have been actu- 
ated ; what are our propensities and de- 
sires ; what we have omitted which we 
ought to have done ; what is the account 
which we must render of the past, and 
what are our duties for the future ? It is 
designed to be a day of rest from the 
ordinary pursuits of life, but not a day of 



191 

indolence. To commune, as we ought, 
with our hearts ; to study the word of God 
with the reverence and attention which it 
claims, and in secret to confess our sins ; 
to seek the divine guidance, to cherish 
the gratitude and love which we owe to 
God, and to commit ourselves and our 
concerns to his care, furnish abundant 
occupation for all the hours of this day, 
which may be spared from its other duties. 
It was a command of God to the Jews, 
"from evening to evening shall ye cele- 
brate your sabbath;"* and greatly would 
it conduce to a suitable observance of the 
day, if our sabbaths were always com- 
menced on the evening of Saturday. It 
would predispose us to meet the day with 
the interest and the dispositions which it 
should awaken, by divesting our minds of 
the calculations and inquietudes of the 
week. It would make these employments 
sources to us of the highest improvement, 
and the purest pleasure. 

2. We should hallow this day in our 

* Lev. xxiii. 32. 



192 

houses, by the exercises of domestick wor- 
ship. Every father should be a priest in 
his house. Every house should be a 
temple of the living God, from which the 
incense of prayer should daily ascend to 
heaven. But on the sabbath, there should 
be peculiar and distinguishing offices of 
domestick piety. We should shew to our 
families the reverence which we feel for 
the day, by preventing, as far as possible, 
all domestick labours ; by dispensing to 
them instruction, and enforcing it by our 
examples. Let each fill the little sphere 
of his own house, by the faithful discharge 
of its duties, and blessings of incalculable 
worth will result to society. With what 
increased zeal and pleasure will the devout 
heart engage in the publick worship of 
God, which has kindled the holy flame, by 
the exercises of social worship at home ? 
They prepare us to recognize our relation 
to the family of man, and to commend all 
to the favour of our common Father. They 
have the best influence in qualifying the 
mind for that reception of truth, by which 



193 

its effects will be rendered permanent and 
happy. 

3. In giving us rest from the common 
business of life, the sabbath furnishes to 
parents a most favourable season for the 
religious instruction of their children. On 
this day they meet, with every advantage, 
for communicating and receiving knowl- 
edge ; and it is our solemn duty to avail 
ourselves of this time, to induce them to 
that piety and virtue, on which depend the 
happiness of this, and of the future life ; 
to teach them that there is a God of per- 
fect power, benevolence, and holiness ; that 
he is always present with us ; that all 
things are subject to his providence, and 
that he will call all men into judgment. 
That he loves truth, and hates iniquity ; 
that he sent Jesus to be the instructor of 
the ignorant, and the Saviour of sinners ; 
that he will always hear our prayers, when 
they are offered with sincere hearts ; and 
that he is more willing to do us good, than 
we are to ask for it. We should warn 
them of the deceitfulness of the world, and 
25 



194 

of their own hearts, and of the necessity of 
constant watchfulness. We should allure 
them to a love of holiness, by exhibiting 
the joys of heaven ; and deter them from 
vice, by representing its terrible conse- 
quences in hell. These instructions are 
suited to the comprehensions of children 
at a very early age. At least, they may be 
sufficiently understood, to obtain a power- 
ful and most beneficial influence on their 
conduct. They are truths which the sab- 
bath is adapted to bring to our recollec- 
tions with peculiar force, and which pious 
parents will not fail of inculcating on their 
offspring. How delightful a spectacle is 
the domestick circle, in which children 
surround their parents, listening with ea- 
gerness and delight to the lessons of 
wisdom, which are inculcated from the 
word of God ! Let them see in our 
prayers, in the books which we read, and 
in our pious conversation, the genuine 
influence of religion, and they will catch 
the spirit with which we are actuated, and 



195 

learn of us to glorify our and their Father 
in heaven. 

4. It was the practice of the primitive 
church, to assemble on this day for the 
publick worship of God, and to observe 
the ordinance of the supper. The com- 
munion was then a part of the service of 
every sabbath, and every one, who ac- 
knowledged the divine mission of Christ, 
was a communicant. The disciples met, 
not in churches erected for their worship, 
but in each other's houses ; and in as- 
sembling, were often obliged to observe 
the greatest secrecy, that they might avoid 
the interruption and persecutions of their 
enemies. Yet were these most happy 
sabbaths ; for it was then deemed by 
christians one of the best of their priv- 
ileges, to unite in the worship of God, and 
to hear the doctrines and duties of his 
word illustrated and enforced. It was, I 
apprehend, peculiarly with reference to 
the benefits which would result from pub- 
lick worship, that the sabbath was insti- 
tuted ; but in instituting the publick 



196 

exposition of the scriptures on this day, 
as a part of the duties of the ministers of 
his religion, has the interest and impor- 
tance of social worship been vastly aug- 
mented. " Discourses to the people on 
the nature of their duties to their Maker, 
their fellow mortals, and themselves, was 
an idea too august to be mingled with the 
absurd and ridiculous, or profligate and 
barbarous rites of paganism " ; * And 
although the scriptures were read in the 
synagogues of the Jews, discourses, like 
those of the apostles, were wholly un- 
known. "It is an institution for which 
mankind are indebted to Christianity ; in- 
troduced by the Founder himself of this 
divine religion, and in every point of view 
worthy of its high original. Its effects 
have been to soften the tempers, and to 
purify the morals of mankind ; not in so 
high a degree as benevolence could wish, 
but enough to call forth the warmest 
strains of our gratitude/' It has been one 

* Adams's introductory oration on rhetorick and oratory, 
PP- 2 3> 4- 



i 9 7 

of the most efficient means, I believe that 
I may say that it has been the most effect- 
ual of all the means which have been 
employed, to extend to every class of 
society the most important knowledge. 
It has the happiest tendency to the re- 
straint of vice, and to the encouragement 
of piety and virtue. To these publick 
services, therefore, should a portion of the 
day be devoted ; and they will be con- 
scientiously and devoutly observed by 
every one, who is interested to promote 
the best good of society, and who esti- 
mates, as he ought, the importance of the 
privilege. 

5. St. Paul directed the Corinthian 
christians, on the first day of the week, to 
lay by them in store, as God had pros- 
pered them, that they might contribute to 
the necessities of their poor and persecuted 
brethren. Offices of charity are appro- 
priate to all times ; and they are consid- 
ered as of so much importance in the 
christian system, that they must be per- 
formed, even though they interfere with 



198 

the other duties of the sabbath. To visit 
the sick and the afflicted, to administer to 
them the consolations and encouragements 
of the gospel, and if they are in want, to 
relieve them, not only encourages in them 
pious sentiments and affections, but is 
productive of the same important effects in 
ourselves. One of the earliest writers of 
the christian church, says, "the citizens 
assemble on the sabbath, and first are read 
the scriptures of the prophets and the 
apostles. The priest then delivers a dis- 
course, in which he exhorts the people to 
practise what they have heard. Then all 
join in prayer, after which the ordinance of 
the supper is administered, and then they 
give alms to the poor. This is the manner 
of conducting the christian festival."'* 
Difference of times, and of the circum- 
stances of christians, have brought these 
contributions into disuse, as one of the 
peculiar duties of the sabbath ; but as we 
have opportunity, we should on this day 

* Justin Martyr, Apol. 2, in Taylor's Ductor Dubitantium, 
p. 364. 



i 9 9 

dispense to the necessities of others ; and 
particularly cherish the benevolent dispo- 
sitions, which will impel us, when occasions 
offer, to do good unto all. 

Even by the politician, whose views are 
confined to the order, the improvement 
and the comfort of society in this world, 
the sabbath is considered as one of the 
wisest and most beneficial institutions 
which was ever devised. By its slow and 
silent operation, it allays the ferment of 
those evil passions, which are excited by 
the sordid, the selfish, and the sensual 
pursuits of mankind ; and even where it is 
much neglected, it produces a moral in- 
fluence more favourable to human happi- 
ness, than could be derived from any laws 
or appointments, unaccompanied by a 
divine sanction. To the weekly sabbath 
are we greatly indebted for the tranquillity 
and security in which we live ; for much of 
the efficacy of those sentiments, principles 
and affections, which are the strongest 
cement of the social compact. If it were 



200 

universally observed as a divine institu- 
tion, it would relieve society of many of its 
most oppressive burdens, supersede the 
necessity of many laws, and be one of the 
best means of promoting confidence and 
of diffusing happiness through all the 
classes of society, and the relations of life. 
To the poor, the sabbath is adapted to 
be an inestimable blessing. It is a pecu- 
liarity of the gospel, that it addresses itself 
equally to the poor and to the unknown, 
as to the affluent and the honoured. "Go 
and tell John/' said our Lord to those who 
came to him to inquire if he were the 
Messiah, "Go and tell John, that the poor 
have the gospel preached to them." This 
he addressed to the baptist, as an evidence 
of his divine mission ; as an evidence that 
he came from Him who is the common 
Father of man, and who regardeth not the 
rich more than the poor. In the very 
beginning of his ministry he proclaimed at 
Nazareth, that it was one of the purposes 
of his mission, to preach the gospel to the 
poor ; to enlighten and to comfort that 



201 

large portion of society, which had been 
despised and disregarded. "Poverty was 
considered by the Jews as a punishment 
from God;"* and notwithstanding the 
numerous requirements of their law to the 
exercise of benevolence, " Amos reproaches 
the Israelites, with having sold the poor 
for a contemptible price, as for shoes and 
sandals." * But, neglected as they were, 
the poor of Judea were the most privi- 
leged of the world ; for to them, every 
seventh day was a day of rest. It was the 
interest of their teachers to retain them in 
ignorance, that they might themselves re- 
tain their authority. But Jesus made them 
the objects of his peculiar care ; and under 
his, and the ministry of the apostles, they 
were instructed in all the doctrines and 
duties of religion, and excited to piety and 
virtue by the most interesting, consolatory, 
and powerful motives. In every other 
part of the civilized world, the condition of 
the poor was inconceivably more deplor- 
able. They were immersed in the deepest 

* Calmet's Diet. art. Poor and Poverty. 

26 



202 



ignorance, as a means of retaining them as 
instruments for accomplishing the designs 
of ambition, of avarice, or of pride. The 
fame of the refinement and learning of 
antiquity is derived, not from a wide diffu- 
sion of knowledge over society, but from 
the genius and acquirements of a few, who 
appear, in comparison, as a different race 
of beings. The poor were the slaves of 
the most debasing superstition ; and the 
very rites of their religion, instead of en- 
lightening, involved them in still deeper 
darkness ; and in some instances were 
adapted to promote their progress in vice 
and wretchedness. The doctrines of phil- 
osophy were taught to the rich, to the 
powerful, and to men who were capable, 
by their talents, of commanding influence 
in society ; but the design of raising the 
poor from their depressed condition, by 
diffusing knowledge among them, and by 
inculcating principles and motives adapted 
to secure their virtue, never entered the 
minds of their most distinguished sages ; 
or if for a moment suggested, was deemed 



203 

an enterprise too bold to be attempted. 
It was left for the son of God to rescue 
this vast portion of mankind from their 
degradation and misery ; and one of the 
most important means of effecting this 
most benevolent, this sublime object, was 
the institution of the services of the sab- 
bath. Under the christian dispensation, 
the poorest and most ignorant of the 
Gentile world were invited to receive the 
same instructions, which were dispensed 
to the rich and the learned. They were 
taught to appropriate a seventh portion of 
their time exclusively to the attainment of 
a knowledge of the gospel. 

They were instructed that, equally as 
their superiours, they were the children of 
God, accountable for their conduct, and 
capable of attaining immortal happiness. 
Where Christianity is unknown, the con- 
dition of the poor is at this day the most 
distressing which can be imagined ; and 
even in christian countries their sufferings 
are augmented, in proportion to their 
neglect of the institution of the sabbath. 



204 

Considering then this single effect of the 
observance of this day, is it not worthy of 
divine appointment, and of our warmest 
gratitude ? May I not say, wherever the 
benign influence of the gospel has ex- 
tended, that it has doubled the number of 
rational beings, by restoring to half of 
mankind the reason they had lost, and the 
rank and privileges to which they are 
entitled, as accountable and immortal be- 
ings ? Without the gospel, without the 
opportunities and services of this day, 
many of us would have been, at this 
moment, in the lowest mental and moral 
debasement ; and shall we not then keep 
holy to God the season to which we are 
so essentially indebted for our most val- 
uable blessings ? 

2. A proper observance of the sabbath 
is adapted to have the happiest influence 
on domestick life. The business of the 
world separates men from their families ; 
absorbs, for most of every day, their cares 
and affections ; and has a direct tendency 
to excite and to cherish the social and un- 



205 

social passions of avarice, of envy, and 
jealousy. On the sabbath, the common 
labours of life are suspended, and leisure 
is allowed for a day at home. On this day, 
unincumbered by other cares, may fathers 
and mothers unite their exertions in the 
cultivation of the minds and hearts of their 
children ; and by exercising together the 
offices of piety, elevate, and strengthen, 
and refine the flame of their affection. The 
family, in which, for six days of the week, 
the cares and passions of the world have 
been indulged, in the sabbath may find a 
season of peace ; a few hours for undis- 
turbed meditation ; for secret and for social 
prayer ; for a review of life, and for the 
indulgence of plans and hopes, the objects 
of which are far without the limits of this 
life. Conceive of a family, on the evening 
preceding the sabbath, retiring from their 
labours, divesting their minds of the cal- 
culations and inquietudes of the world, 
and assembling in the full exercise of the 
pious and benevolent affections, which the 
gospel inculcates. How well adapted are 



206 

all their intercourses and employments, to 
the security of the best happiness of man ! 
On this day the dispositions are corrected, 
in which originate the contentions and 
miseries of domestick life. All the amiable 
and endearing qualities of the temper are 
cherished, and the principles and habits 
which give energy and worth to the char- 
acter, are strengthened. To the influence 
of the christian sabbath are we much in- 
debted for the delightful associations, 
which we attach to the idea of home ; for 
the virtues which peculiarly constitute the 
happiness of domestick life. Faithfully 
discharge its duties, my brethren, and you 
will find it one of the most effectual means 
of promoting union, order, and affection in 
your houses ; of exciting in your children 
sentiments of piety and virtue ; and of 
securing to you, in your own homes, a 
refuge from the disappointments, the per- 
plexities, and the vices of the world. 

3. It is an immediate effect of the 
sabbath to harmonize the discordant mate- 
rials of which society is composed. It 



207 

brings together many, who could never 
have been united from inclination, and 
awakens in their breasts a mutual interest. 
We meet on this day, not to indulge our 
selfish views and pursuits, but to rejoice 
in each other's welfare, and to sympathize 
in each other's sufferings. We meet, not 
as men of business, whose plans are liable 
to interference, and in whom a similarity 
of occupations and views awakens suspi- 
cion and distrust ; but as the children of 
the same Father, seeking an interest in 
the grace which is abundant for all ; and 
whose success, instead of being retarded, 
will be most essentially advanced, by all 
the assistance which we can render to each 
other. To this cause, perhaps, more than 
to any other, are we to attribute, that sen- 
sibility to the wants of others, and those 
enlarged principles of benevolence, which 
distinguish modern from ancient times, 
and christian countries from those, which 
are unenlightened by revelation. The 
spirit of the gospel is love ; and the dis- 
ciples of Christ meet on this day to worship 



208 

that Being, who is essential love. They 
meet as brethren. In this relation the 
rich and the poor, the wise and the ignor- 
ant, the honoured and the despised, stand 
together before God. They meet to hum- 
ble themselves together before Him, who is 
no respecter of persons ; they acknowledge 
together their sins, their dependence, and 
their wants. Could any other means be 
devised, so well adapted to excite in man 
a widely extended sympathy, to animate 
him in the discharge of every relative duty, 
and to secure to him the most permanent 
possession of every social pleasure. 

4. To the sabbath are we much in- 
debted for our knowledge of the principles 
of religion, and for their efficacy upon our 
conduct. Very many of those who are 
best acquainted with the gospel, will not 
hesitate to avow their obligations, for the 
leisure which this day affords to them, and 
for the excitements which they have re- 
ceived in the house of God, to the study 
of his word. In the multiplicity and va- 
riety of our ordinary pursuits, how rarely 



209 

do we find, that we have time or inclination 
to think seriously of God, of our duties, of 
heaven and of judgment ? It may even be 
questioned, if the sabbath were abolished, 
whether nine-tenths of the christian world, 
after two or three generations, would not 
become wholly ignorant or regardless of 
moral truth. It is to the secret, but most 
salutary influence of this day, that we are 
to attribute much of the virtue on which 
we are accustomed to rely, in our inter- 
courses with mankind. It is a season in 
which, if we have any sensibility, we shall 
feel repentance, and form pious resolu- 
tions. Once in the week at least, it pre- 
pares us to go into the world, in some 
measure disposed and enabled to resist its 
temptations. — Once in the week, at least, 
do thousands hear the scriptures, to whose 
minds they would otherwise have no ac- 
cess ; and they are arrested by rebukes, by 
warnings or encouragements, which force 
them to feel, that they were not created 
only for this world. To those who are 
disposed wisely to improve it, it is a season 
27 



2IO 

most favourable to accessions of religious 
knowledge, and to the advancement of 
habits of piety and virtue ; and I believe 
that I may appeal to the experience of 
many to confirm the assertion, that in its 
proper observance is one of the best se- 
curities of the order, the success, and the 
pleasures of the week. 

But why should I attempt to enumerate 
the benefits of the christian sabbath? No 
conception of its importance can be formed 
by those who do not observe it ; and they 
who keep it holy to the Lord, derive from 
it advantages and gratifications, which can- 
not be expressed. To them, it is a refuge 
from the storms of the world; a shadow 
from its oppressive heat. They hail its 
arrival ; they enjoy every moment of its 
progress ; and derive from its duties a 
cheerfulness and elevation, which results 
from none of the common pursuits and 
indulgences of life. It is an emblem of 
the rest of heaven. If we hallow it in our 
hearts, in our houses, and in the church ; 
if we faithfully appropriate it to its proper 



211 

services, these will be its effects ; and by 
these influences shall we have conviction, 
that its services are acceptable to God. 

That this day is greatly disregarded, 
both in the domestick and publick duties 
which it involves, is one of the most 
obvious of the facts which arrests our 
notice, in a moral survey of society. The 
causes and consequences of this neglect 
demand our attention ; for in proportion 
as it can be obviated, we aid in staying 
the current of vice and misery, and in pro- 
moting the virtue and best happiness of 
man. With all the seriousness which the 
subject claims, I propose then the inquiry, 
why are the privileges of this day so little 
estimated, and its most important duties 
so frequently violated ? 

The cause, my brethren, which is the 
most obvious, of the neglect of the obliga- 
tions of the sabbath, is an excessive love 
of the world, and an inordinate devotion 
to its interests. For six days, in succes- 
sion, we are permitted to labour ; and to 
accumulate, as far as we may by honest 



212 

industry, the riches of the world. — During 
this time, little relaxation is allowed from 
the ardour of pursuit. We commence our 
toils. Care immediately presses upon care, 
and calculation succeeds to calculation. 
Every hour is deemed important, and is 
most faithfully appropriated to the objects 
of our affections and our hopes. We close 
the day, exhausted with its labours ; and 
full of the anticipation of purposes yet to 
be accomplished, we seek the refreshment 
of sleep. In the morning, when we are 
best prepared for the exercises of devotion, 
the mind is so much absorbed by its anti- 
cipations and its plans, that the obligations 
of piety are wholly forgotten ; and the 
mind which, through the day, has not been 
raised above the earth, and which sympa- 
thises with the fatigue and enervation of 
the body, will not be disposed, at evening 
to engage in those exercises, which force 
us to a comparison of our conduct with 
our duties and of the riches of this world 
with the treasures of heaven. In this con- 
dition, the sabbath overtakes us ; and we 



213 

welcome it, perhaps, as a day of rest. But 
though actual labour is suspended, the 
thoughts and affections flow on in their 
accustomed channels, nor can they easily 
be diverted from their course. Hence it 
is that many waste the morning of this day 
in sleep ; that the religious instruction of 
children, for which this time furnishes an 
opportunity the most favourable, is so 
much neglected ; and the publick worship 
of God is treated with so much indiffer- 
ence. Hence it is that the conversation 
of men on the sabbath is confined, almost 
as exclusively to the business of the world, 
as if this were the purpose for which we 
assembled. My brethren, these things 
ought not so to be. A few moments of 
every morning and evening, devoted to 
secret and to domestick prayer, and an 
hour occasionally given to the reading of 
the scriptures, and to familiar conversation 
on religious subjects, would occasion no 
material deduction, even from the pe- 
cuniary profits of a day, nor would they 
interfere with any rational pleasure ; and 



214 

they would prepare us to meet the sabbath 
as a day to be consecrated to God, and 
conducive at once to the greatest benefits, 
and the richest enjoyment. We cannot, at 
the same time, serve God and Mammon ; 
and if all our thoughts and our solicitude 
through the week are confined to the pos- 
sessions and pleasures of this world, the 
sabbath will be a day of weariness and of 
pain, which we shall be easily induced to 
squander in indolence, or to profane in 
vice. There is indeed no necessary in- 
terference between the ordinary business 
of life, and the duties of religion ; but to 
derive pleasure or advantage from the ser- 
vice of God, we must love him supremely; 
and if we thus love him, we shall be ready 
to make any sacrifices for the enjoyment 
of his service. We shall permit no care 
or pursuit to prevent our observance of 
his requirements. We shall shew forth 
his loving kindness every morning, and his 
faithfulness every night ; and hallow his 
sabbath as a pledge of the rest which re- 
mains for his people in heaven. 



215 

But the cause to which the neglect of 
this day is principally to be attributed, is 
the want of religion in our hearts ; our in- 
sensibility of the obligations which we owe 
to Christ, whose triumph over death we 
this day celebrate ; our inconsideration of 
our sins, of the authority of his commands, 
the worth of his promises, and the terror 
of his denunciations. If we feel the re- 
pentance, the gratitude, the love of God 
and of man which his gospel inculcates, 
the hunger and thirst for increasing right- 
eousness which it is adapted to excite, and 
the spirit of devotion which it awakens in 
its sincere believers ; if we were interested 
to know and to perform the will of God, as 
we are interested in the pleasures and 
business of the world, no duty of the day 
would be wantonly disregarded. It is to 
this inconsideration, this insensibility of 
the power and excellence of religion, that 
we are to attribute the dominion of those 
sensual and selfish passions, which attach 
us to the world, and indispose us to the 
offices of piety. I do not say that an 



2l6 

observance of the publick services of the 
sabbath is a certain evidence of piety in 
the heart ; but I believe that it will be 
difficult to find exceptions to the remark, 
that they who disregard the publick wor- 
ship of this day, are equally regardless 
of religion in their families, and inatten- 
tive to its requirements in their own lives. 
We do not therefore form our judgments 
precipitately, nor violate the law of charity, 
when we accuse him of practical infidelity, 
and of a heart which resists the impressions 
of divine truth, who easily excuses the 
neglect of the duties of this day, or ob- 
serves its publick rites with thoughtless 
indifference. To this insensibility, this 
want of religion in the heart, are all the 
other causes of the neglect of the sabbath 
to be ascribed ; and the evil can be rem- 
edied by no other means, than the purifi- 
cation of the source in which it originates. 
When we feel the genuine influence of 
religion, no persuasions will be necessary 
to bring us to the house of God. If we 
love Him who died, and rose, and lives to 



217 

save us, we shall keep holy the day of his 
resurrection. The effect is inseparable 
from the cause. If we love Christ, we 
shall be excited by our love to habitual 
exertions to keep all his commandments. 

The consequences of the neglect of the 
sabbath are most solemn and affecting, nor 
does it require much penetration to discern 
them. Would to God that a recurrence 
to them might admonish us of our dangers. 

The first effect which we notice, is an 
increasing disregard of moral and religious 
restraints. A man does not wantonly 
neglect the sabbath, till he has become 
insensible, to a considerable degree, of the 
influence of religious principles ; and when, 
in consequence of this insensibility, he 
disregards the services of this day, his 
progress in evil will be daily accelerated. 
Every one who has ever improved this day 
to the purposes for which it was instituted, 
has occasionally at least felt its restraints 
in the conduct of the week. The princi- 
ples which were then impressed on his 
mind have recurred with so much force, 
28 



218 

that he has been strengthened to success- 
ful resistance, where he would otherwise 
have been overcome, and to greater fidelity 
in the discharge of every duty. But when 
we have learned to dispense with one 
acknowledged obligation, every other is 
violated with greater ease ; for we cannot 
habitually violate one, till we have lost that 
reverence of the authority of God, which 
is the only security of virtue. When we 
have ceased to feel any interest in the 
worship of God, we shall derive no pleas- 
urable emotions from a remembrance of his 
presence, and of his commands ; we shall 
feel no disposition to refer to our account- 
ability, and to the sanctions of his law. Of 
this consequence of a violation of the 
sabbath, there are many examples ; and 
they exhibit to the young most solemn 
warnings, against a practice, which is 
fraught with so much evil. It increases 
the hardness of the heart, emboldens to 
the commission of vice, and separates us 
farther from God. From a wanton neglect 
of this day, to a profanation of it, and from 



219 

a profanation of it to a rejection of every 
religious restraint, the transition is so easy, 
that we may generally venture to predict 
of him, in whom the return of the sabbath 
awakens no religious sentiments, and who 
feels no remorse in appropriating it to the 
pursuits of business, or of worldly pleasure, 
that he is not far from the lowest state of 
moral debasement ; a condition of ultimate, 
and unutterable misery. 

The abuse of the sabbath has a direct 
tendency to promote domestick disunion 
and wretchedness. In their private and 
family worship, in their study of the word 
of God, in their religious education of 
their children, and in the publick services 
of the day, do the pious experience a sweet 
serenity of mind, most delightful exercises 
of their understandings and affections, and 
the most earnest desires to love God more, 
and to serve him better. The evil dis- 
positions and passions in which this abuse 
originates, are in themselves sources of 
misery. In the families in which the sab- 
bath is neglected and profaned, low and 



220 

selfish and sordid motives obtain ascend- 
ancy ; and every contrariety of feeling, 
every difference of opinion, every trivial 
disappointment, produces petulance, and 
perhaps contention ; and where there is 
domestick contention, there is confusion 
and every evil work. 

3. The profanation of the sabbath is 
peculiarly fatal in its influence on the 
minds and conduct of children. Reared 
from their infancy in the disregard of the 
word and ordinances of God, their hearts 
acquire an obduracy, which resists all the 
impressions of religion. In the dying 
confessions of those, whose lives have been 
forfeited by the laws of society, their early 
habits of vice have been attributed, prin- 
cipally, to an early neglect and abuse of 
the sabbath. What an affecting admoni- 
tion is this to all who are parents ? By 
permitting our children to grow vile, with- 
out imposing on them the restraints, and 
exciting them by the encouragements of 
religion, we become instrumental of their 
abandonment to evil, and of their final 



221 

misery. Thousands, who might have been 
the ornaments and blessings of society, by 
parental neglect have become lost to 
virtue, and the bane of their generation ; 
have passed a corrupted and a miserable 
existence, and have died without accom- 
plishing one purpose of their being. 

Let these consequences of its abuse 
operate as motives to keep holy this day 
of the Lord. A time will arrive, when we 
must account for the use which we have 
made of all our opportunities of religious 
instruction. May God enable us so to 
improve these seasons, that we may render 
our account of them with joy ! There 
remaineth a rest, an eternal sabbath, for 
the people of God. Happy, infinitely 
happy are they, who are admitted to its 
employments and its joys. May God make 
them our happy portion, through Jesus 
Christ, to whom be glory forever. AMEN. 



FINIS. 



List of the Members 



"THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN 
KNOWLEDGE, PIETY, AND CHARITY," 

By whom the Christian Monitor is published. 

MAY, 1811. 



John L. Abbot, A. M. 
Rev. Isaac Allen, 

Joseph Allen, esq. 
Mr. Samuel Allen, 
Rev. John Allyn, 
Rev. John Andrews, 
Rev. Aaron Bancroft, D. D. 
Rev. Thomas Barnard, D. D. 
Mr. Edward Blake, 
Rev. John Bradford, 

Alden Bradford, esq. 

Samuel Bradford, esq. 
Mr. Andrew Brimmer, 
Rev. Joseph S. Buckminster, 

John Callender, esq. 
Rev. Samuel Cary, 
Mr. Samuel Chandler, 

Elisha Clap, A. M. 
Rev. Pitt Clark, 
Rev. Samuel Clark, 
Rev. Henry Colman, 
Mr. Joseph Coolidge, jun. 
Rev. Henry Cumings, D. D. 
Mr. Josiah Davis, 
Rev. John Eliot, D. D. 
* Rev. William Emerson, 
Hon. Oliver Fiske, 
Rev. John Fiske, 
Rev. Jacob Flint, 
Rev. Edmund Foster, 



Cambridge. 

Bolton. 

Worcester. 

do. 
Duxboro'. 
Newburyport. 
Worcester. 
Salem. 
Boston. 
Roxbury. 
Wiscasset. 
Boston. 

do. 

do. 

do. 

do. 
Worcester. 
Boston. 
Norton. 

Burlington, Ver. 
Hingham. 
Boston. 
Billerica. 
Concord. 
Boston. 

do. 
Worcester. 
Newbraintree. 
Cohasset. 
Littleton. 



Rev. John Foster, 

Rev. Joel Foster, 

Mr. David Francis, 

His Honour William Gray, 

Rev. Thomas Gray, 

Rev. Thaddeus M. Harris, 

Benjamin Hay ward, esq. 
Rev. Horace Holley, 
Dr. Isaac Hurd, 
Mr. Francis Jarvis, 

Phinehas Johnson, esq. 
Rev. Samuel Kendall, D. D. 
Rev. President Kirkland, 
Rev. John Lathrop, D. D. 
Mr. Phinehas Lawrence, 
Rev. Joseph McKean, 

Tilly Merrick, esq. 
Deacon James Morrill, 

Andrews Norton, A. M. 
Rev. Asa Packard, 
Rev. Hezekiah Packard, 
Hon. Isaac Parker, esq. 
Mr. Samuel H. Parker, 

Francis Parkman, A. M. 
Rev. John Pierce, 
Rev. John Pipon, 
Rev. John S. Popkin, 
Rev. Eliphalet Porter, D. D. 
Rev. Enoch Pratt, 

Ebenezer Preble, esq. 
Rev. John Prince, LL. D. 
Rev. John Reed, D. D. 
Rev. Ezra Ripley, 
Rev. Samuel Ripley, 

Samuel Sewall, A. M. 
Rev. John Simkins, 
Rev. Isaac Smith, 



Brighton. 
Sudbury. 
Boston. 

do. 
Roxbury 
Dorchester. 
Worcester. 
Boston. 
Concord. 

do. 
Hampden, Me. 
Weston. 
Cambridge. 
Boston. 
Lexington. 
Cambridge. 
Concord. 
Boston. 
Cambridge. 
Marlborough. 
Wiscasset. 
Boston. 

do. 

do. 
Brookline. 
Taunton. 
Newbury. 
Roxbury. 
Barnstable. 
Boston. 
Salem. 
Bridgewater. 
Concord. 
Waltham. 
Cambridge. 
Brewster. 
Boston. 



Mr. Gideon Snow, 


Boston. 


Rev. Micah Stone, 


Brookfield. 


William Sullivan, esq. 


Boston. 


Rev. Joseph Sumner, 


Shrewsbury. 


Rev. Seth F. Swift, 


Nantucket. 


Rev. Thomas Thacher, 


Dedham. 


Rev. Samuel C. Thacher, 


Boston. 


Rev. Nathaniel Thayer, 


Lancaster. 


Rev. Andrew E. Thayer, 


Luzern, Pennsyl. 


Rev. Joseph Thaxter, 


Edgarton. 


Isaiah Thomas, esq. 


Worcester. 


Mr. John Thoreau, 


Concord. 


Mrs. Rebecca Thoreau, 


do. 


Mr. James Thwing, 


Boston. 


Mrs. Sarah Thwing, 


do. 


David Tilden, esq. 


do. 


Mrs. Sarah Tilden, 


do. 


Mr. Samuel Torrey, 


do. 


Rev. Joseph Tuckerman, 


Chelsea. 


Mr. John Vose, 


Concord. 


Mr. David Vose, 


do. 


Daniel Waldo, jun. esq. 


Worcester. 


Rev. Henry Ware, D. D. 


Cambridge. 


* Rev. Samuel West, D. D. 


Boston. 


Theophilus Wheeler, esq. 


Worcester. 


Deacon John White, 


Concord. 


Rev. Peter Whitney, jun. 


Quincy. 


Rev. Nicholas B. Whitney, 


Hingham. 


Rev. Samuel Willard, 


Greenfield. 


Deacon Jacob Williams, 


Burlington, Ver. 


Mrs. Mary Williams, 


Boston. 


Rev. Ezra Witter, 


Wilbraham. 


HONOURARY 


MEMBERS. 


Rev. Dr. Buckminster, 


Portsmouth, N. Hamp. 


Rev. Dr. Lee, 


Lisbon, Connecticut. 


Rev. Mr. Leonard, 


Canterbury, Connecticut 


Rev. President Saunders, 


Middlebury, Vermont. 


* Deceased. 



SERMON 



DELIVERED 



THE ORDINATION 

i 

OF 

THE REV. SAMUEL GILMAN. 



A 

SERMON, 

DELIVERED 

AT 

THE ORDINATION 

OF 

THE REV. SAMUEL GILMAN, 

TO THE 

PASTORAL CARE 

OF THE 

Second Independent Church in Charleston, 
Dec. i st, 1 8 19. 



BY JOSEPH TUCKERMAN, 

MINISTER OF THE CHUKCII IN CHELSEA, (MAB8.) 



CHARLESTON, (S. C.) 

A. E. MILLER, PRINTER. 

Queen-Street. 



SERMON. 



WE ARE AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST, AS THOUGH 
GOD DID BESEECH YOU BY US. 

2 Cor. v. 20. 

i\N ambassador is the representative of 
his sovereign. Christ, as the Ambassador 
of God, was the representative of God. 
Commissioned immediately by the Al- 
mighty Sovereign, — of whose glory he was 
a partaker before the world was, — he was 
peculiarly, God with man. The Apostles, 
immediately commissioned by our Lord, 
and invested by him with peculiar powers, 
were, peculiarly, Christ with men. They 
were his representatives. They executed 
his will. And in calling men to repent- 
ance, and to the piety and virtue of the 



230 

gospel, it is their peculiar language, we 
pray you, in Christ's stead. On christian 
ministers also, who have entered into the 
labours of the Apostles, devolve the sol- 
emn duties of ambassadors for Christ. 
Our office, therefore, includes all that is 
most interesting and important, which 
may be attempted for human improvement 
and happiness ; all that concerns man as 
an accountable, and immortal being. 

Our peculiar relation, both to Christ and 
to men, is most forcibly expressed in the 
text. We enter upon the ministry, not 
indeed as Apostles, peculiarly designated 
to the office, but from choice of the ser- 
vice ; from zealous attachment to his 
cause ; from humble and pure desires to 
be dispensers of his word, and labourers 
together with him for the salvation of man. 
In Christ's stead, we teach the doctrines 
of his religion ; inculcate its duties ; and 
attempt to give impression, and effect, to 
its promises and threatenings. The num- 
ber is comparatively small of those, who 



231 

are disposed to think for themselves upon 
the subjects, most important as well to 
their present, as to their future happiness ; 
and the preachers of the gospel, to a con- 
siderable extent at least, form the religious 
sentiments, the motives and morals of 
those, with whom they are immediately 
connected. Between ourselves, and the 
first ambassadors of our Lord, there is 
indeed the difference, — never to be for- 
gotten, — that under the immediate and 
supernatural guidance of him by whom 
they were commissioned, in doctrine and 
in precept they could not err. But suc- 
ceeding to their stations and their duties 
as preachers of his religion, with apostolic 
simplicity and fidelity we are to impart, 
according to what we have received. We 
are separated from the ordinary labours of 
the world, and by the most solemn acts 
are consecrated to God and to Christ, for 
the public services of the church, for the 
various offices and duties of pastoral 
care, and for the advancement of all 
the great purposes of the gospel. The 



232 

influence, therefore, exerted by ministers 
of Christ, is necessarily great. Our office, 
therefore, we likewise consider as greatly 
important. Happy will be that labourer 
in the cause of our Divine Master, who 
feels at once this relation, and these obli- 
gations, to him, and to men ; and who, in 
the hour of his final account, will be ac- 
cepted as an honorable representative of 
his Saviour and Lord ; a faithful mes- 
senger of his grace and truth. 

To the influence and importance of the 
christian ministry, let me then direct your 
attention. 

The influence of our ministry, what 
should it be ? What are our just claims 
upon society ? 

The time has been, — but blessed be God 
it has gone by, — when the answer to these 
inquiries would have comprehended, not 
only all that private ambition or avarice 
could demand, but all that the most unre- 
strained despotism could possess. Happily 



233 

for us, civil and religious rights are now 
better understood. At least, in our own 
favoured country, every man knows that 
he may elect for himself the place, and the 
mode of his worship ; that he is amenable 
for his faith to no human tribunal ; and 
that he may follow the guidance of his 
own conscience, without fear of opposition, 
while he does not interfere with the con- 
science, and the rights of others. In ad- 
dressing you then upon the influence of 
our ministry, think not that we wish to 
revive an obsolete doctrine ; to assert an 
antiquated, and long repressed authority. 
We believe that our Master has given us 
no claims, which do not grow out of the 
services we perform, as his servants, for 
those to whom we minister. We believe 
that God has entrusted His word to all 
who have received it ; and that, as it is the 
duty of every one to examine for himself, 
every one has equally a right, according to 
the light that God shall give him, to 
interpret the Scriptures for himself. In 
preaching His word, therefore, and in the 

3° 



234 

services of our office, the only influence 
we may ask, or that should be granted to 
us, is that which all, of unprejudiced and 
honest minds, will admit should be given 
to truth ; to our labours in the great cause 
of christian piety and virtue ; to faithful 
endeavours to enlighten, to reform, and to 
save those, who are committed to our 
charge. It is the influence due to our 
characters, and to our exertions, in our 
office ; to the christian spirit by which we 
are actuated, and which we endeavour to 
extend to those, to whom our ministry 
may be extended. Beyond these limits, 
and independent of these means, we desire 
no authority. But even when thus re- 
stricted, is the influence of a faithful min- 
ister inconsiderable ? Let me but refer 
you to some of the most frequently re- 
curring of his services. 

And, first, on the morning of the sab- 
bath, cast your eye over the christian 
world. What a change has the return of 
this day produced in the thoughts and 



235 

feelings, the cares and pursuits, the hopes 
and fears, of at least a great portion of 
those who believe the gospel ? Engaged 
through the week, many in the exclusive 
pursuit of business or of pleasure, and all 
too much inclined, through the deceitful- 
ness of riches, or the lust of other things, 
to forget God and duty, their constant 
exposure to death, their responsibility and 
immortality ; all more or less infected with 
the contagion of the air they have breathed, 
in the scenes and occupations in which 
they have sought the happiness of the 
passing hour ; all partaking, though in 
very different degrees, of the spirit of the 
world, in whose labours, and calculations, 
and hopes, and solicitudes, they have im- 
mersed themselves ; what would be our 
condition as moral beings, if we were not 
arrested by this day ? if we had not this 
breathing time in the rapid journey we are 
pursuing; this hour for self-inspection, for 
serious remembrance and anticipation ? 
But for the weekly sabbath, how many 
would soon lose all recollection that they 



236 

have a spiritual and immortal nature ? 
How many, whom this day recalls to the 
most solemn exercises, would soon become 
cold, and earthly, and selfish, and sensual ? 
But important as are its private and do- 
mestic services, what would be our sab- 
baths, without our churches ? The public 
exercises of the house of God bring to- 
gether the thoughtless, the gay and dissi- 
pated, who are ever looking without 
themselves, and within the narrow limits 
of the present day, or week, or month, for 
all which they call enjoyment, — with the 
sedate, the reflecting, and the pious, who, 
whether in retirement, or in the bustle of 
life, are living for eternity ; the mere 
worldling, whose only care is for his im- 
mediate gains, with the most devout, 
whose treasure and heart are in heaven. 
It is the high object, and the solemn busi- 
ness of a minister of Christ, on this day, 
to lead the thoughts, the cares, and the 
devotions of all, to heaven. He stands 
between his fellow men and their Maker. 
He has come from the highest exercise of 



237 

his mind and heart on the great subjects 
to which he is to excite attention, and from 
secret communion with God, to direct 
their prayers ; to express their adoration 
of the Creator and Governor of the Uni- 
verse ; to cherish the sentiment and feeling 
that we have all one Father, are all invited 
to seek life eternal through one Saviour, 
and that we should likewise have one Hope ; 
to offer their united acknowledgements of 
dependence and gratitude, their penitential 
confessions, and their supplications for the 
divine mercy. He dispenses to many those 
scriptures, which they will not read for 
themselves; and which from their situa- 
tions and employments, they could scarcely 
hear but from his lips. He illustrates and 
displays, in their power and glory, the 
doctrines of the gospel ; explains and 
inculcates its precepts ; and summons all 
the contending passions and interests of 
men to that tribunal, at which we are all at 
last to be judged. He brings Christ before 
those who hear him, in all the divine 
authority with which he was invested by 



238 

the Father who sent him ; in all the offices 
of divine love and mercy, in which he is 
confirming his true disciples, and calling 
upon all sinners to repent, and to be 
reconciled to God. He shows them the 
utter worthlessness of all possessions and 
honors, compared with an interest in the 
salvation that is in Jesus ; and he exhibits 
Christ crucified, — however to the Jews a 
stumbling block, and to the Greeks fool- 
ishness, — to them that are saved, the wis- 
dom and the power of God. By baptism, 
he initiates the children of believers into 
the visible church ; and by this act, at the 
same time, consecrates the parental affec- 
tions, — the strongest of our nature, — to 
God their inspirer ; to God our common 
parent. He distributes the emblems of 
the body and blood of Christ, in partaking 
of which we acknowledge ourselves to be 
one body in Christ ; members one of 
another ; and heirs together of the same 
inheritance, if we are indeed his disciples. 
What sources of mutual interest and at- 
tachment are these? What sources of 



239 

influence to a christian minister? How 
many owe their strongest impressions of 
religion to these services ; feel their bene- 
ficial effects through the week ; have their 
doubts resolved, their fears dispelled, their 
hopes awakened, and their sorrows con- 
soled ! How many have thus been brought 
from the death of sin, to true repentance; 
renewed in the spirit of their mind, and 
made holy to God ! How many have thus 
been advanced in their christian course- — 
their progress towards heaven ! In the 
public exercises of the sabbath, see how 
many circumstances combine to excite, to 
exercise and to strengthen the love which 
binds together a faithful christian minister, 
and the people of his charge. 

Again, a christian minister, if his char- 
acter is what it should be, in mingling with 
the people of his care, even when he has 
not directly in view the performance of 
official duties, is at once a bond of union 
by which they are holden together, and by 
which each is attached more strongly than 



240 

he would otherwise be, to the objects that 
demand his highest, his eternal concern. 
The associations that are thus formed, and 
of which the heart should never be di- 
vested, with the character and objects of a 
faithful and beloved pastor, are most favor- 
able to christian union, and to the ad- 
vancement of christian piety and virtue. 
In his affections ; his candour and benev- 
olence ; his meek and unostentatious de- 
portment ; and his conversation, often on 
subjects most closely connected with the 
eternal welfare of man, and always con- 
sistent with the principles of religion, they 
see an image of the master whom he 
serves ; a living illustration of the gospel 
which he preaches. So should a christian 
.minister deport himself, even in his or- 
dinary intercourse. And can you not con- 
ceive of the love that must glow in his 
heart, when he quits the labours of his 
retired hours, in which he has been em- 
ployed in your service, — or rather, in the 
service of his master for your greatest 
happiness, — to seek the relaxation of his 



241 

mind, in affectionate intercourse with the 
families, to whose best good he has been 
devoting his thoughts, his reading, his pen, 
and his prayers ? And he anticipates, and 
receives a correspondent affection. — He 
anticipates it with peculiar confidence from 
some. But he receives it also from many, 
who give scarcely any other indication of 
their respect for religion. And his is a 
friendship unmixed with sordid and selfish 
motives. It flows from the peculiar prin- 
ciples and objects of the relation he sustains 
to them, as a spiritual pastor and guide ; 
from the close, — may I not say eternal — 
union of their most important interests. 
If his character then comports with his 
office, must not even his most common 
and familiar intercourse, by attaching the 
people of his charge to himself, attach them 
also more strongly to each other? Must 
it not maintain in life and in action the 
sentiments and affections, which should 
peculiarly form and characterize the dis- 
ciples of Christ ? I need not say how 
precious, to a christian minister, is the 
31 



242 

friendship thus contracted. It is inesti- 
mable. But is it not obvious, how great 
is the influence thus acquired and exerted 
by a faithful servant of our Lord ? 

But not only does a christian minister 
exert this indirect, but most salutary in- 
fluence. In the society that has chosen 
him, he is not alone to inculcate principles, 
but carefully to watch their operation. He 
is in private to perform the duties of a 
christian friend, where another would not 
perhaps think himself obliged to interfere ; 
or through fear that the service might be 
unkindly received, might shrink from an 
office sometimes demanding the best exer- 
cise of the judgment, and not always grate- 
fully acknowledged, even when performed 
with the best intentions. In the ordinary 
friendships and connexions of the world, 
men generally look to the immediate, or at 
best to the temporary advantages and suf- 
ferings, that may result from efforts and 
sacrifices required of them by duty. — Not 
so is it with a faithful minister of Jesus. 



243 

He would lead the steps of all into the 
path of life eternal. Often therefore with 
secrecy, but with fidelity, he is a monitor 
of the young ; an adviser of the unwary. 
He is employed in checking vice and en- 
couraging virtue, in their beginnings ; and 
teaching those who are under his care, to 
associate their first and strongest desires 
with the prospects and promises of the 
gospel. And will not they, whom his 
warnings have saved from many evils, 
whom his excitements have animated to 
duty, and enriched with the best satis- 
factions of man, return the love that is 
claimed by this well timed friendship ? 
It is also his duty to admonish and to 
strive with, hardened offenders. And even 
where he is not successful, great becomes 
his interest in them ; and not unfrequently, 
strange as it may seem, scarcely less is 
their respect for, and their attachment to, 
himself. As a spiritual father among your 
little children, how many likewise are his 
means of forming them to the most im- 
portant knowledge ; to piety and virtue ; 



244 

to present and future happiness ? In the 
children who grow up under his ministerial 
cam, he sees the future members and 
pillars of the church of Christ. And shall 
he not, — will he not, — have in return their 
filial love? But particularly will he feel 
himself to be bound to those, who have 
bound themselves to God by the obliga- 
tions of the gospel. He will spare no 
labour, he will excuse himself from no 
service, by which he may strengthen their 
christian union, and promote their christian 
progress. — I will only ask, is not the in- 
fluence thus obtained and exerted as salu- 
tary, as it is great and extensive ? 

Nor are these the only bonds that con- 
nect a christian minister with the people 
of his charge. Let me refer you to scenes 
and exercises, in which every heart is most 
susceptible. Let me carry you to the 
chambers of sickness, and to the house of 
mourning. It is not the least important of 
the duties, — let me add, it is not the least 
valuable of the privileges, — of a faithful 
christian minister, to be the bearer of the 



245 

instructions and consolations of the gospel 
to those, who are suffering under the 
various trials of life. I would not indeed 
attach an undue importance to impressions, 
made upon the heart in the hour of afflic- 
tion. They are too often the impressions 
only of fear, and last no longer than the 
passion that excited them. But they are 
sometimes permanent, and valuable even 
as our immortal hopes. Who has not, in 
seasons of sickness, and mourning, felt his 
need of a teacher or friend, to whom he 
could open his heart ; express his con- 
victions, his doubts, his anxieties, and his 
hopes ? And how many have sought, or 
have found without seeking, this friend, in 
the minister of Christ whom he peculiarly 
called his own ? Yes, if disease visits, or 
if death enters your dwelling, you expect, 
and you receive, through your chosen 
pastor, the supports and consolations of 
religion. And then, if ever, is the heart 
peculiarly open to the admission, and the 
communication of love. Often too, on the 
bed of sickness, the sleeping conscience 



246 

awakes ; the seared conscience becomes 
susceptible ; the heart that has burned 
with revenge, is disposed to pardon ; the 
injurer desires forgiveness ; the mere 
worldling feels the worth of the treasures 
of heaven ; and he who has lived most 
without God, begins to pray, or asks the 
prayers of those, whose intercessions, he 
hopes, may be more availing than his own. 
And how many, in the loss of beloved 
friends, have felt as they never have be- 
fore, the importance of immediate prepara- 
tion for their own departure? In the 
offices to which a christian minister is 
called by the afflictions of those who are 
immediately under his care, how many 
circumstances are there to excite the high- 
est mutual interest, and to give him in- 
fluence in their hearts ! But when he 
visits the truly pious, in their days of 
disease or mourning, — when he sits or 
prays by the dying bed of those whose 
departing spirits he may follow with con- 
fidence to a better world, how do all the 
hopes of that world bind together the 



247 

hearts of those, who thus mingle their 
sympathies and their devotions ? It is 
impossible that, from these circumstances, 
great influence should not be derived to a 
devoted minister of Christ. 

Finally, what that is peculiarly interest- 
ing and important, is comprehended in, or 
associated with, any of the most endearing 
relations of this world, which does not 
belong also to the relation between a truly 
christian minister, and the people of his 
charge ? Even their temporal prosperity 
and adversity, joys and sorrows, are essen- 
tially his own ; and the facility and comfort 
with which he is enabled to live, to provide 
for his family, and to give himself to the 
objects of his office, are among the chosen 
and happy objects of their attention and 
care. But in the performance as well of 
his daily duties, as of those of the sabbath 
and the house of God, the infinitely higher 
concerns of eternity become peculiarly the 
bonds of their union. A truly christian 
people will feel, that the health and pros- 



248 

perity of their souls, their preparation for 
eternity, are the objects of his daily solici- 
tude, his prayers, and his exertions. Thus 
do their interest in each other, and their 
mutual love and confidence, partake of the 
elevation, and strength, and purity of the 
motives and principles, to which they refer 
their sacred relation. In their spiritual life, 
he lives ; grows in their spiritual growth, 
and strengthens in their strength. Their 
christian improvement is the very life 
spring of his happiness as a minister of 
Christ. The influence, therefore, between 
a faithful christian pastor, and those com- 
mitted to his care, is mutual. But it is for 
him, by his fidelity, to make it mutual. In 
their relation to each other, when sanctified 
by the principles in which it should be 
founded, and by which it should be sus- 
tained and established, will be felt none of 
the conflicting passions and interests of the 
world. They are all one in Christ. They 
love and they follow him, as a minister of 
Christ. And he seeks not theirs, but 
them. This is the influence for which we 



249 

plead. We believe that it is the design of 
the author and finisher of our faith, that 
we should possess and cherish it. Nor do 
we think that, in one well ordered mind, it 
would even for a moment awaken one 
feeling of resistance. 

Respect for the office of the ministers of 
religion is universal. It has been felt in 
all ages, under all forms of religion, and in 
all countries. — The priests of the early 
ages of the world were its kings. And 
under almost all the forms of heathenism, 
little short of the royal prerogative has 
been the authority of those, who have 
regulated the high concerns of the altar. 
Their supposed favour with the gods has 
given them a proportionate influence, as 
intercessors for men. And having thus 
obtained a direction of the consciences, 
they have possessed a control of the pas- 
sions and interests of men, often more 
entire, than would have been yielded to 
any merely human wisdom or power. In 
Christendom too, where conscience has 
32 



250 

been given up to the keeping of those, 
who, it was thought, could absolve from 
sin, and open the gates of heaven ; and 
even in protestant Christendom, in the 
sects which have appropriated to them- 
selves all the spirituality of the gospel, all 
that is most important in truth, and most 
valuable in the immortal hopes of man ; 
in the sects which indulge a spirit of sep- 
aration and exclusion, and allow no asso- 
ciation of salvation with any other creed or 
forms than their own ; the ministers of 
religion possess an influence not altogether 
unlike that of the priests of heathenism. 
I need not however say that, this is not 
the proper influence of a christian minister. 
It is the influence of the spirit of the 
world, in the disguise of religion. From 
the early and strong prejudices of educa- 
tion ; from the bigotry of some otherwise 
greatly enlightened, and the ignorance of 
others ; from the natural and unsubdued 
love of domination in many ; and from the 
very assuming sentiment, that all others 
must be necessarily and fatally wrong, 



251 

because they feel that they are themselves 
right, this influence has been, and is ex- 
tensively given, and exercised; and to it 
are every day sacrificed the meekness, the 
candour, and the charity of the gospel. 
This influence is the mother of persecu- 
tion ; and where it has been unrestrained 
by civil power, it has committed crimes as 
enormous as any in the records of human 
depravity. May God preserve both you 
and us from this dreadful abuse of our 
high privileges, as ministers and disciples 
of our meek, and lowly, and merciful 
saviour ! 

Where there are national ecclesiastical 
establishments, an authority is also pos- 
sessed by the ministers of religion, which 
is in a great measure independent of 
ministerial character. I thank God that 
we have not such an establishment. Nor 
would I for myself, or for my brethren, 
have any official influence, but that which 
character alone will give us. Respect for, 
and attachment to us as ministers of Christ, 



252 

ought to cease, as soon as our characters 
cease to comport with our office. It is 
altogether a voluntary relation into which 
we enter with the people of our charge. 
The minister of a society is chosen by, and 
not imposed upon the society to which he 
ministers. This is a circumstance, both to 
us and those to whom we minister, of 
inestimable importance. It is a bond of 
union rarely broken, but by death. Our 
relation grows out of the mutual affections 
indulged during a term of probationary 
intercourse. We know, and then love 
each other ; we love, and are united. And 
the affection which first connected us, 
extending with the circumstances that ex- 
ercise it, and strengthening with time, 
becomes one of the most powerful bonds 
of this world. And is the importance less 
great, or less certain, than the influence of 
a truly christian ministry ? 

We would not unduly magnify our office. 
But we are not qualified for this office, if 
we do not feel the greatness of its interests, 



253 

and the importance of its duties. Nor 
could I attempt to illustrate the influence 
of a faithful minister of Christ, without 
showing also the importance of his services. 
But it demands a distinct consideration. 

Look upon the world with the eye and 
heart of a mere man of the world, and you 
every where see life, activity, the choice of 
various objects of pursuit, and a thousand 
various and opposite interests soliciting 
desire, and animating effort. — But look 
upon it again with the purged eye of a 
moral, and an accountable being, and see 
in this countless multitude how many are 
awake, only to regard the objects of their 
senses, and are slumbering over the con- 
cerns of their souls. See how many are 
thoughtlessly rushing on to moral ruin. 
How many are deluding conscience, and 
making compromises with God, by hollow 
professions ; and in self-justification for 
the neglect of piety, plead their morality ; 
or excuse their neglect of morality, by 
recurring to their offices of piety. — See 



254 

how many ignorant there are to be in- 
structed ; how many poor, whose daily 
labours leave to them but little command 
of time, and whose temptations expose 
them to so much vice and wretchedness, 
as make them objects for the peculiar 
solicitude and exertions of a christian 
pastor. How many, notwithstanding the 
abundance of their possessions, are anxious 
only for new accumulations ; or are seek- 
ing all their happiness in the pride, or the 
vanity of riches. How many, who will at 
all hazards be rich, are making shipwreck 
of faith, of integrity, and of every good 
affection ; and are falling into temptations, 
and snares, and lusts, which drown men in 
destruction and perdition. — Look upon the 
world, even upon that little world in which 
we live, and the round of which we may 
daily accomplish, — and ask, what changes 
does the gospel propose to effect in it ? 
What changes, by the blessing of God, may 
be effected in it by a faithful ministry? In 
these, see the interests and duties of our 
office. He that converteth a sinner from 



255 

the errour of his ways, will save a soul 
from death, and hide a multitude of sins. 

Our ministry derives its importance from 
the great and most interesting objects of 
our religion ; from the objects for which 
Christ came into the world, taught, suf- 
fered, and died. Do you ask, what are 
these objects ? I answer, to bring sinners 
to repentance, and the penitent to all the 
holiness of the christian character. Chris- 
tianity opens to the eye of our faith a state 
of ineffable glory, and of eternal improve- 
ment. It proposes, even in this world, to 
infuse into its believers the spirit of heaven. 
It would give us the spirit of Christ. 
Christianity is a new spiritual creation. 
The subjects of the kingdom of Christ are 
new creatures. They are born again by 
the word of God. Christ dwells in their 
hearts by faith. — Living, they live to the 
Lord ; and dying they die to the Lord. 
Whether, therefore, they live or die, they 
are the Lord's. In our exertions to ac- 
complish these objects of our religion, we 



256 

are working together with God. We are 
ambassadors for Christ. We propose, 
illustrate, defend and apply the doctrines 
he has taught. We inculcate the duties 
he has required. We exhort, and we 
rebuke, only by the considerations, by 
which our master and Lord enforces obli- 
gation, addresses our fears, or awakens 
and animates our hopes. And what can 
be so important to every individual of 
mankind, as these objects of our religion ? 
Yes, these are interests which should be 
ascendant in every heart ; which will make 
the beggar who obtains them infinitely 
richer, than all the possessions of the 
world could make him ; — and without 
which, the most affluent, and the most 
exalted, will soon find himself to be poor, 
and miserable, and blind, and naked. It 
is our business to call the attention of 
those who hear us to the terms, and the 
means of their present and their final ac- 
ceptance. By the mercies, and by the 
terrours of the Lord, we persuade men. 
We would make Christ, requiring us to 



257 

repent, — Christ dying for our sins, — and 
Christ, our advocate and intercessor in 
heaven, to be your glory, and your joy. 
We would make it to be the language and 
the feeling of every heart, God forbid 
that I should glory, save in the cross of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world is 
crucified to me, and I unto the world. — 
Will it be denied then, that the design of 
our ministry is important ? It is the great 
design of God in the salvation, and eternal 
happiness of men. — Alas ! who is sufficient 
for these things ? 

Does it seem to any one that these are 
suggestions of vanity ! We acknowledge 
that it is indeed possible to be vain even 
of the success, with which we have exposed 
the emptiness of all the grandeur of the 
world ; with which we have humbled the 
pride of men ; with which we have preached 
Christ crucified for our sins ; or have im- 
pressed those who heard us with the awful 
solemnity of judgment and of eternity. 
But if this passion be felt, it is because we 
33 



258 

do not feel the solemnity and importance 
of our relation to Christ, and to those to 
whom we minister. It is because we do 
not feel that we are to account to him for 
the manner in which we have dispensed 
his word, and for the intended effects of 
our ministry. If we cherish the sentiment, 
— the feeling of this relation, and of the 
responsibility involved in it, with the 
deepest humility, as well as the strongest 
affections and interests of our hearts, we 
shall beseech sinners to be reconciled to God. 

If this be not the most affecting view 
that can be taken of our office, it is cer- 
tainly one that demands our serious, and 
very frequent attention. A vain and 
ostentatious display of ourselves in our 
ministry ; a peculiar regard to our own 
fame, or influence ; and, let me add, a 
suspicious, an accusing, and a censorious 
spirit in the ministers of Christ ; a dispo- 
sition manifested to assume the judgment 
seat, and to condemn ; a spirit of enmity 
and of separation ; — is it not the spirit of 



259 

the world ? And will not men of the world, 
who form their judgments of religion only 
from what they see of its effects, either 
infer that they have themselves as much 
religion as their teachers ; or that, in their 
better morality, they have a deeper and 
stronger ground of acceptance ? Within 
the circle of his immediate labours, a faith- 
ful ambassador for Christ, — a humble, but 
devoted representative of his Lord, — for- 
getting himself, and toiling in his master's 
service ; an example of the efficacy of the 
doctrines he teaches, and of the duties to 
which he excites others ; in the silent, but 
constant influence of his life and conver- 
sation, may make an impression of prin- 
ciples, and exercise a spirit of devotion, in 
which many, with himself, will rejoice with 
joy unspeakable in the presence of God. 
And a minister of Christ, — if to him we 
may apply the name, — whose passion is 
vanity or ambition, and whose object is 
admiration or renown ; who preaches of 
heaven, while his heart is obviously filled 
with the cares, and his time is principally 



26o 

employed in the business of the world ; a 
minister of Christ, who sacrifices his charity 
to his zeal, or who exhorts men to deny 
themselves, and take the cross, while he 
freely allows in himself the propensities he 
condemns, and indulges the habits against 
which he dispenses his admonitions ; a 
minister of Christ, calling upon men to 
work out their salvation, but heedless of 
his own ; urging them to a heavenly con- 
versation, while his own breathes only the 
spirit of the world ; a minister of Christ in 
whom Christ dwells not ; what evil may he 
not occasion ? To what guilt may he not 
be accessary? Who would not shrink 
from the dreadful anticipation of the ac- 
count, which such a servant must render 
to his Master and judge ? 

Our office is as responsible as it is im- 
portant. But erroneous sentiments may 
be, and I think sometimes are, formed of 
its responsibility. We are to account to 
God for the temper, and the manner in 
which we have sought for truth, and in 



26l 

which we have dispensed it. It will be 
required of us at once, that we have not 
taught for doctrines the commandments of 
men ; and that we have not failed to de- 
clare all that we know, or believe, to be 
the counsel of God. And God will demand 
of us, that we have been faithful in the use 
of all the means and opportunities with 
which he has entrusted us, of accomplish- 
ing the end of our office. But we are not, 
and cannot be, accountable for effects of 
our ministry, which are necessarily beyond 
our control. We are not, and cannot be 
accountable for the evil of errors, which we 
have in vain endeavoured to overcome; 
for vices we have faithfully, but ineffect- 
ually resisted. If it be our duty to teach, 
to admonish, to encourage and to confirm, 
it is equally the duty of those to whom we 
minister to hear ; to inquire at the word of 
God, whether these things be so ; and 
accept us in these offices, as far as we are 
found to be conformed to the instructions 
of Christ. If we are responsible, not less 
solemn is the account to be rendered by 



262 

those to whom we minister. We do not 
receive souls into our charge, to mould 
them according to our will. Nor, if we 
have much self-knowledge, or much of the 
humility of the gospel, shall we with a 
dogmatical confidence, feel every pecu- 
liarity of our own sentiments, by whatever 
human names they are sanctioned, to be 
essential to the salvation of all those who 
hear us. What we believe to be truth, 
and important truth, it is indeed our duty 
to preach, with all the earnestness that 
should be inspired by all the great con- 
siderations that enforce it. But let every 
one remember and feel, that he also is 
accountable for these means of grace. 
Let every one most seriously consider, 
that he is bound to search the scriptures 
for himself; to bow his whole soul to their 
authority ; to work out his own salvation ; 
to give all diligence to make his calling and 
election sure. In these views of mutual 
obligation, and of mutual accountableness, 
faithful ministers will lose none of their 
holy ardour, in advancing the cause of 



263 

their Master ; while at the same time they 
will strongly feel, that it is not for them 
imperiously to judge and to condemn. And 
a christian society will feel, that the con- 
science of their minister is to be left as 
free as their own ; that he can be instru- 
mental of their salvation, only as far as he 
is an instrument of aiding them in be- 
coming truly christians ; and then only can 
be guilty in their condemnation, when he 
has not warned sinners of their danger, 
besought them to repent, and called them 
to be holy, that they might be forgiven and 
live. 

Is it still thought that we assume too 
much in giving this importance to our 
office ? Does any one say to us, show us 
your credentials, before you address us as 
an ambassador for Christ ? Show us the 
validity of your ordination ? We reply 
that, we have no desire of an imposing 
name. We claim no authority over any 
man's conscience. We assert no dominion 
over your faith or conduct, but that which 



264 

we can obtain by strength of argument, 
and the power of persuasion. I have said 
that, we feel ourselves to be called to this 
office, by our interest in the christian im- 
provement, and in the eternal salvation of 
men ; by our readiness and desire, for- 
saking all interests and pursuits inconsist- 
ent with it, to live and to die in the service 
of Christ. And as we attribute all good 
influence to God, we ascribe this also to 
His agency. Nor do we pretend that we 
confer any new powers by the acts of 
ordination. We do but acknowledge, and, 
by authority given us by the church in 
whose name we act, confirm the powers, 
and rights, and privileges, to the accept- 
ance and exercise of which, he who is to 
be ordained is invited by those with whom 
he is to be immediately connected as their 
minister. In our united prayers we com- 
mend him to God ; separate him to all the 
services of the sanctuary ; and seek for him 
the succour and assistance from above, 
which we feel that he needs. We give to 
him the right hand of fellowship ; welcome 



265 

him to a share in our labours, our toils, 
and our joys ; and assure him of our sym- 
pathy and aid. And in all the departments 
of the new duties before him, we charge 
him to be faithful. These rites of our 
churches are derived from Apostolic usage ; 
and we adopt them, because they are most 
solemn, most appropriate, and as we be- 
lieve, most conformed to the order and 
design of the gospel. If they do not make 
him whom we thus ordain holy to the 
Lord, they make him and others, if they 
have the sensibility of christians, feel that 
his character and his labours should be 
holy. With this act of separation, we 
associate the obligation of all the peculiar 
duties and services of the christian min- 
istry. In this act, he that is ordained 
gives up his mind, and heart, and life to 
the objects, for which the ministry was 
instituted ; the extension and establish- 
ment of the dominion of Christ over the 
faith, and heart, and lives of those, to 
whom he is to minister. If there is to be 
a christian ministry, we can conceive of no 
34 



266 

rites more simple, more impressive, nor 
more suited to the occasion. They are 
directly connected in every mind that so 
conceives of them, with the holiness of our 
religion, and the corresponding holiness 
required of all its believers. These are 
our views of the nature of our office, and 
of the rites by which we are inducted into 
it. Nor do we think that they in any 
measure enfeeble, or weaken the impres- 
sion of the sentiments, we have expressed 
of its importance. 

By directing attention to the influence, 
and the importance of our ministry, I have 
hoped, my dear sir, at once to deepen and 
confirm the feelings with which you are 
entering on its duties ; and to give a 
proper direction to the affections and in- 
terests of those, towards whom you are 
particularly to sustain this endearing and 
solemn relation. You desire, and so you 
should, — to possess the proper influence 
of a minister of Christ. You wish to be 
loved, and to be useful, not from any 



267 

private and temporal interests, but that 
you may advance the objects of the gospel. 
You feel that the importance of the min- 
istry is, the importance of the religious 
improvement, and the eternal salvation of 
those, to whom we minister. May you be 
an able, a beloved, and a successful ser- 
vant of our great Master and Lord. With- 
out interfering with the charge you are to 
receive, I may, however, warn you, — and 
you will kindly receive what is affection- 
ately intended, — neither to desire, nor to 
exert any influence, for the purity and 
rectitude of which you cannot appeal to 
the searcher of hearts. Do not for a 
moment indulge complacency in the sanc- 
tity of character that may be ascribed to 
you, if you feel that they are deceived by 
whom you are so estimated. And while 
you strive with your might, and seek 
assistance from God, that you may accom- 
plish the purposes of your ministry, let not 
an undue influence be attached to any of 
your labours, as if these could be in any 
degree effectual to the salvation of a single 



268 

soul, which possesses not the spirit of 
Christ, and lives not obedient to his laws. 

If you be a faithful minister, you will 
find in your duties a full employment of 
your time. We may indeed so pass 
through the round of our office, as to leave 
much leisure from its services, and yet not 
expose ourselves to be loudly, or severely 
blamed. But little to be envied is that 
ambassador of Christ, however desirable in 
other respects his condition may be, who 
has no higher aim, than to avoid the 
immediate censures of those to whom he 
ministers. You will watch and labour for 
the salvation of souls, feeling always that 
you are to give account of your office. 
New pleasures await you, and they are the 
most refined and valuable of this world. 
But new trials and discouragements are 
also before you. You are, therefore, to 
show yourself to be a good soldier, as well 
as a faithful representative of our Lord. 
You must be willing to suffer, as well as to 
toil for our Master. You must feel that 



269 

the poorest and most obscure, have equal 
claims upon your care, as the most affluent 
and respected. You will, therefore, like 
our Master, preach the gospel to the poor; 
and by suiting your instructions to their 
condition and wants, you will yourself be- 
come poor, that you may make many rich. 
While God is the final object of your love, 
and trust, and devotion, you will strive to 
make Christ, in his offices and his example, 
his commands and his promises, dearer to 
the hearts of them that hear you, than any 
possessions or relations of the earth. You 
will live in daily, humble and fervent 
prayer, that God may guide and strengthen 
you ; that he may assist you in your studies, 
in your preaching, and in your parochial 
intercourse ; that through His grace, you 
may have many souls as the reward of 
your labours ; and that you may so preach 
to others, as not yourself to be cast away. 
And, we bow our knees unto the Father of 
our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom the whole 
family in heaven and earth is named, that 
he would grant you, accordi7ig to the riches 



270 

of glory, to be strengthened with might by 
His spirit in the inner man ; that Christ 
may dwell in your heart by faith; and 
being rooted and grounded in love, that you 
may be able to comprehend with all saints, 
the breadth, the length, and depth, and 
height ; and to know the love of Christ that 
passeth knowledge ; and that you may be 
filled with all the fulness of God ! 

Brethren of this Christian Society, 
We congratulate you on all the 
auspicious circumstances of this day. May 
it be a day of increasing gladness in your 
remembrance ! May you and your children 
have occasion to rejoice in a recurrence 
to it, in the day of your final account! 

It has pleased God, in his inscrutable 
providence, very early to deprive you of 
the labours of a young, but greatly beloved 
teacher and pastor. The affection with 
which you cherish the remembrance of his 
intercourse and services, the kindness you 
have extended to him through the long 



271 

and distressing term of his illness, the 
solicitude with which you are constantly 
seeking information concerning him, and 
the influence which even at so great a 
distance, he is still exerting among you 
are pledges to us that our brother, whom 
we are now to set over you in the Lord, 
may also labour among you with a christian 
hope, of advancing in your hearts and 
lives the great interests of the Redeemer's 
Kingdom. We join our fervent praj'ers 
with yours, that it will please God merci- 
fully to watch over the revered object of 
your anxieties and supplications ; to soften 
the pillow of his declining life ; to support 
him in all his trials and sufferings ; and 
when you shall stand with him at that 
tribunal, at which he must give account of 
his ministry, and you of your improvement 
or neglect of it, that he may be accepted 
as a faithful servant, and you as seals of 
his ministry, and crowns of his rejoicing. 

We are now, by the solemn rites of 
ordination, to separate this our brother to 



272 

your service in the Lord. He is the man 
of your choice. You have given full proof 
of your affection for him, and of your con- 
fidence in him. But let me remind you 
that, to receive him indeed as a minister 
of Jesus Christ, you must feel that the 
importance of his office arises from the 
importance to your eternal salvation, of 
that gospel you invite him to preach to 
you. While his character and exertions 
shall correspond with the objects of a truly 
christian ministry, and you shall see him 
zealously engaged in seeking your relig- 
ious improvement, and your final happi- 
ness, allow him the influence that is due 
to his care and his labours. He will come 
into your families, with his heart warm 
with the affections of the gospel. Receive 
him then as your pastor, with all the love 
that should be felt in this endearing re- 
lation. But we ask, and we desire for him 
no other influence, than he can obtain by 
a heart and life devoted to his duties. — 
He will be inclined to give a full portion 
of his time to the social intercourse, in 



273 

which he hopes to obtain much of the 
success, and the happiness, of his min- 
istry. But you will not require of him 
those attentions, which would interfere 
with the hours that should be consecrated 
to study. He desires to come to you 
always as a scribe well instructed unto 
the kingdom of heaven. Allow him then 
the uninterrupted retirement demanded 
for his preparations for the pulpit. If 
you would gladden his heart, and en- 
courage his hands, you will also attend 
upon his preaching with constancy, with 
seriousness, and with earnest desires of 
self-improvement ; with inquisitiveness, 
but without a disposition to cavil ; and 
respecting his conscience, while you cul- 
tivate your own. It will be his duty to 
preach to you all that he believes is the 
will of God in Christ Jesus concerning 
you. It is not less your duty to hear with 
ingenuous, and with candid minds ; with 
earnest desires of being made wise unto 
salvation, through faith in Christ Jesus. 

35 



*74 

If you shall at any time think that he errs, 
either in doctrine or in conduct, make not 
his error a subject of public discussion, 
'till it has first been thoroughly discussed 
in private with himself. Innumerable 
divisions and evils have arisen in families, 
in the church, and in the world, only from 
misconception and mistake, which fair ex- 
planations at first would have entirely ob- 
viated. He comes to you in Christ's stead, 
to beseech you all to be reconciled to God. 
Let him, therefore, speak to you with the 
simplicity and the directness, which mark 
and characterize the instructions of our 
Lord and of his apostles. Hear him when 
he calls upon you to repent ; when he 
admonishes you, by the meekness and the 
gentleness of Christ, that ye put away all 
wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil 
speaking, with all malice ; and that ye be 
forbearing and affectionate, not towards 
one another only, but towards all men ; 
when he warns you, be not conformed to 
this world, but be transformed by the renew- 
ing of your mind; when he enforces the 



275 

command and the promise, believe on the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved ; 
when he exhorts you, put ye on the Lord 
Jesus Christ ; and lay hold on eternal life. 
Hear him when he invites you to com- 
memorate that love of our Saviour for us, 
which was stronger than death ; and bring 
your children to him, that he may initiate 
them by baptism into the church of our 
Lord. And let your daily prayers ascend 
to God for him, that he may be an instru- 
ment of bringing you and your children 
to glory, to honour, and to immortality. 
Thus, being sanctified and cleansed by the 
washing of yater, and by the wbrd, may 
you be at last accepted a glorious church, 
not having spot or wrinkle, or any such 
thing ; but holy, and without blemish. — 
Now, therefore, O God, hear the prayer 
of thy servants, and cause thy face to 
shine on this thy sanctuary ! Clothe thy 
priests with salvation, and cause thy 
saints to shout aloud for joy ? And now 
unto Him that is able to do exceeding 
abundantly, above all that we can ask 



276 

or think, according to the power that 
worketh in us, unto Him be glory in the 
church by Jesus Christ, throughout all 
ages, world without end. Amen ! 



RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP 

BY THE 

Rev. JARED SPARKS, 

OF BALTIMORE. 



The works and dispensations of God 
declare his goodness. The smiles of his 
love beam upon us from every object in 
nature. The temple of the universe is a 
magnificent display of his benevolence, no 
less than of his wisdom and power. 

But the love of God is no where more 
conspicuous, than in the endowments, re- 
sources and prospects of his creatures. 
He has formed us intellectual and rational 
beings ; he has given us powers, which 
elevate and dignify our natures ; he has 
made us capable of knowing and imitating 
his perfections. And he has not only 



278 

bestowed upon us the noble distinctions 
of reason, intelligence, wisdom, conscience ; 
he has also implanted within us the prin- 
ciples of love, which make so large a part 
of his own character. These are the prin- 
ciples, which our religion is intended to 
call forth and improve. 

The Saviour of men spake to us in the 
accents of love. His gospel is an angel 
of love, which bears on its wings the joy- 
ful tidings of peace and good will to men. 
His religion was intended to influence the 
heart, to awaken the affections, "to make 
man mild, and sociable to man," and by 
causing us to live in peace and concord, 
to prepare us for a more intimate and 
happy fellowship in the regions of the 
blessed. The religion of Jesus Christ has 
no other object, than the happiness of 
men. For this, he gave light to a world 
before in darkness ; for this, he suffered 
and died, and left us a pure, and holy, and 
perfect example. His life was as spotless 
as his doctrines were divine. The dews 



279 

of heavenly instruction distilled from his 
lips. Compassion for the afflicted, sym- 
pathy with the disconsolate, and the desire 
of doing good to all, prompted every 
emotion of his soul, and every action he 
performed. He would have us plant, and 
nourish the seeds of our own happiness, 
and enjoy the fruit of our labours. This 
must be done by a cultivation and exercise 
of our best affections ; by drawing closer 
the ties of friendship, and multiplying the 
harmonies of life ; by mutual efforts to 
give activity to the social principle, and to 
extend the influence of religion. 

To promote these objects, the apostles 
of old were accustomed to give the right 
hand of fellowship to those, who were 
appointed to be fellow labourers with them 
in the cause of truth, as a symbol of union 
and brotherly love. In conformity with 
this usage of the primitive christians, in 
the name of the churches, and in compli- 
ance with the instructions of the council, 
which has approved your ordination, I give 



28o 

you this right hand. Take it, my brother, 
as a token of our love, a pledge of our 
cordial fellowship, of our warm interest in 
your welfare, and the success of your min- 
isterial labours. We receive you with 
gladness to a participation in all the priv- 
ileges and services, the cares and solici- 
tudes, the satisfactions and hopes of the 
sacred office, to which you are this day 
solemnly dedicated. We promise you our 
consolation and support, as far as our 
opportunities will allow, and feel assured 
we shall receive yours in return. 

Christians are commanded to preserve 
a unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. 
Let this be our aim. It is not a uniformity 
in opinions, in faith, or in our peculiar 
notions of metaphysical theology, which is 
required ; but a unity of spirit, temper, 
feelings and disposition. Whatever may 
be our speculative opinions, whatever 
views we may have of the disputed points 
of doctrine, to whatever religious denomi- 
nation we may belong, or however widely 



28l 

we may differ in the outward forms of 
worship ; in all that is essential as chris- 
tians, in all that is essential to purity 
of heart, holiness of life, and acceptance 
with God, we may meet as brethren. 
Here is a bond of union, which may em- 
brace all the followers of Christ. We may 
all unite in keeping alive the spirit and 
temper of his religion. We may harmonize 
in devotion and love to God, in charity 
and mutual kind offices to one another. 
We can be of one heart and one mind in a 
faithful discharge of the duties of piety and 
of our social relations. May you, and may 
we all who profess to be the disciples of 
Christ, endeavour to promote this christian 
unity, and think it more important, that 
our lives should be adorned with these 
essential virtues of our religion, than that 
we should spend our time in idle differ- 
ences about words, and forms, and opinions. 

In discharging the duties of a minister 
of Christ, we cannot promise you pleasures 
36 



282 

without pain, rewards without toil, or an- 
ticipations without disappointment. We 
cannot promise you, that the dreams of 
hope will always be realized, or that your 
zeal and exertions will always be crowned 
with adequate success. But amidst your 
cares and anxieties, you will be consoled 
with the consciousness, that you are 
striving to do all to the glory of God, and 
for the good of men. While you see the 
humble, and pure, and gentle spirit of the 
gospel daily gaining a hold on the hearts 
of men ; while you see charity, peace and 
concord mingling in their intercourse, and 
giving a tone to the society around you, 
do not feel, that your labour is vain. 

And now, my friend and brother, permit 
me to avail myself of the privilege of this 
occasion, and offer you this hand again, as 
a testimony of personal friendship and 
affection. You will not think it a cold or 
formal offering, nor do I believe it will 
revive associations, which you would wish 
to suppress. We have walked together in 



283 

the groves of science, we have listened to 
the same voice of instruction, we have 
searched with mutual labour for the treas- 
ures of knowledge, and divine truth. These 
are the recollections of former times. And 
even now, it has been the will of Provi- 
dence, that our lots should be similar. We 
have left far behind the cherished scenes 
of our earlier years, the occupations which 
delighted, and the friends, who consoled 
and cheered us, to make our residence in 
a land of strangers. But the cause of 
truth and of heaven is a universal cause. 
While we approve ourselves faithful ser- 
vants of our Lord and Master, and discharge 
with fidelity the duties of our station, we 
shall find the stranger our friend, the God 
of mercy will overshadow us with the wings 
of his love, sustain us in the hour of trial, 
scatter the clouds of despondency, and 
gild with the beams of joy the rising 
prospects of our future labours. 

Christian brethren, and friends of this 
church and society, allow me to offer you 



284 

our congratulations on this occasion, and 
to express the joy we feel in the testimony 
you have given of your zeal in the cause 
of christian truth and liberty. Our best 
wishes are, that you may be built up in 
the spirit of christian unity and love, and 
that you may be enlightened with a knowl- 
edge of the truth as it is in Christ Jesus. 
We hope you will always regard it, not 
only your privilege, but your right and 
duty, to assert and maintain the freedom 
wherewith he has made you free. Let his 
example and instructions, and those of his 
apostles be your guide. Let your own 
conviction of the truth, and your own 
understanding of the word of God, be the 
measure of your faith ; and whatever others 
may think and teach, let it be your de- 
termination to "read and understand," and 
"judge of yourselves what is right." Let 
your value of the truth be known by the 
candour and earnestness with which you 
search, and the readiness with which you 
embrace it. Let your faith be known by 



285 

your practice ; your good intentions by 
your good actions ; your love to God, by 
your love to men ; the sincerity of your 
religious professions, by the holiness of 
your lives. 



SERMON 



PREACHED 



THE ORDINATION 



OF 



THE REV. ORVILLE DEWEY. 



THE DISTINCTIVE CHARACTER AND CLAIMS OF CHRISTIANITY: 

A 

SERMON, 

PREACHED AT THE 

ORDINATION 

OF 

THE REV. ORVILLE DEWEY. 

PASTOR OF THE FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH 
IN 

NEW-BEDFORD, 

DECEMBER 17, 1823. 



BY JOSEPH TUCKERMAN, 

Pastor of the Church of Christ in Chelsea, Mass. 



NEW-BEDFORD: 

PUBLISHED BY ANDREW GERRISH, JR. 
BENJAMIN LINDSEY, PRINTER. 

l824. 



TO 

THE REV. ORVILLE DEWEY, 

AND THE 

CHRISTIAN SOCIETY 
UNDER HIS PASTORAL CARE, 

THIS SERMON, 

PRINTED AT THEIR REQUEST, 

IS INSCRIBED 

WITH SINCERE RESPECT AND AFFECTION, 

BY 

THE AUTHOR. 
New-Bedford, Dec. 18th, 1823. 



SERMON. 



HEBREWS I. i,2. 

God, who at sundry times, and in divers manners, 
spake in time past to the fathers by the prophets, 
hath in these last days spoken unto us, by his son. 

In these words, we are taught that Chris- 
tianity is the last of a series of divine 
communications to man ; and, in the faith 
that it is a dispensation from God, we have 
assembled here, to perform one of its most 
solemn and important rites ; the Ordina- 
tion of a Christian Minister. I avail my- 
self, then, of the occasion, to call your 
attention, to the distinctive character, and 
claims, of the religion of Christ. In right 
views of the peculiar character of our 
religion, we obtain just sentiments of the 
distinctive character, and objects, of the 
Christian Ministry. It will shew also, that 



292 

our religion is worthy of all the efforts and 
sacrifices, that it may demand, for the 
maintainance of its institutions ; that they 
are the proper objects of the highest con- 
cern of every individual. 

The Distinctive Character, and Claims 
of Christianity : What are they ? 

First, let us glance at them, — for it is a 
glance only that we can take of them — in 
the manner in which our religion was 
taught by our Lord. Happily for us, our 
Lord's manner of teaching is preserved in 
the narratives of the Evangelists, which 
are as original, as distinctive, even as our 
religion itself. 

In this view of our subject, I would 
remark only, that in the manner in which 
our religion was taught by our Lord, it was 
brought to the severest trial of its truth. 
It was shewn also, as it could not other- 
wise have been shewn, to be suited to the 
ever varying exigences of human life; 
suited to form the heart and character of 
man to the moral perfection, to which it 
calls its believers. We do not, indeed, 



293 

distinguish it from Judaism, by any of its 
characters of truth. But, by these we 
distinguish it from all other religions. And 
we distinguish it even from Judaism, in its 
suitableness to the circumstances of all 
mankind, and to the greatest possible ex- 
altation of our nature. 

Let us look, then, at the records of the 
four Evangelists. 

It is worthy of observation, that, to every 
one who can read them in the language in 
which they were first written, they are 
obviously — except one, that of Luke — the 
writings of men, who certainly were not 
skilled in composition. Nor is there in 
one of them an indication of a design to 
produce, what is called, effect. And yet, 
never was there a narrative, either before, 
or since the days of the Evangelists, suited 
to exert any moral power, compared with 
that which has been, is, and will be exerted, 
by these simple composures. Their design 
is single, and uniform. It is, to teach 
Christianity. And how do they teach it ? 
Not by making a collection of abstract 



294 

truths. Not by compiling, from the in- 
structions of their Master, what is called, 
in modern times, a system of christian 
theology. But, by giving us, what is cer- 
tainly far better, a history of Christianity 
during the life of Jesus ; thus leaving 
every reader of the New Testament to 
determine the question for himself, what 
is Christianity ? They faithfully relate to 
us, what Jesus said, and did, and suffered. 
And not only so. By the perfect artless- 
ness, at once, and the vivacity of their 
narratives, they make us, as far as it may 
be done, hearers of his discourses, and 
witnesses of his miracles and conduct. 
They exhibit to us Christianity, in its 
great design, in the life and character of 
its author. And need we, to convince any 
one of the perfect originality of this char- 
acter, or of its truth, to extend our appeal 
beyond the records, in which it is trans- 
mitted to us ? * 

* These remarks may be applied equally to the Acts of the 
Apostles, and to their Epistles. 

The Acts of the apostles are a history of Christianity, from 
the ascension of our Lord, till the seventh year of the emperor 



295 

Here is one, who claims to be the Son 
of God ; to have come from God, that he 

Nero; when Paul was taken to Rome, in consequence of his 
" appeal to the judgment seat of Caesar." Here are related the 
transactions of the Apostles in solemn council; the effusion of 
the Holy Spirit upon them, according to the promise of our 
Lord; their preaching and miracles; the resistance which the 
Jews continued to oppose to our religion, and the conversion of 
many ten thousands of them; the very peculiar circumstances 
under which Peter was constrained to preach the gospel to the 
Gentiles; the conversion and apostleship of Paul; his travels, 
and preaching; the persecutions he endured; his trials before 
the civil authorities; and his voyage from Cesarea to Puteoli, on 
the bay of Naples, from which place he went by land to the 
imperial city. This is, in truth, a most precious book. Here, as 
in the narratives of the Evangelists, our religion is given to us, 
in association with facts and reasonings ; and we see it, in 
almost every sentence, accumulating new evidence of its truth, 
and its power; and in the preaching of the Apostles, breathing 
the very spirit of Jesus. It is in this all pervading, life giving, 
heavenly spirit of their instructions, that we see what Christianity 
was in the days of its apostles. Here our religion is taught, as 
nearly as it could be in the circumstances in which the apostles 
were, as it had been taught by our Lord. Here — and the re- 
mark applies equally to the epistles — it is carried through all the 
scenes of difficulty and suffering, through which its preachers 
passed; and its doctrines and duties are to be studied in con- 
nexion with the circumstances, with which they stand recorded. 
There is an expansion thus given to our views of all the subjects 
on which the apostles taught, which we could not have obtained 
from any other mode of presenting them to us. To our view of 
the internal evidence of our religion, derived from this mode of 
its transmission to us, Paley has done ample justice in his Horse 
Paulinae. It is an argument, which infidelity has not attempted 



296 

might bring the last dispensation of his 
will to mankind. He professes, that he is 

to answer; and it is scarcely less satisfactory, than a mathe- 
matical demonstration. But let any one pass from the four 
gospels, to this book, and read it throughout with singleness of 
eye and of heart; and in the characters, preaching, and conduct 
of the apostles, he will see Christianity to be — with many new 
illustrations indeed, but still — precisely what it was in the teach- 
ing of our Lord. He will see it to be, not a mere form of doc- 
trine, or a code of laws; but, a scheme of divine operation for 
the renewal and sanctification of the heart and character of?nan ; 
for the salvation of a world of sinners. He will here see our 
religion at war, not only with idolatry, and with spiritual wick- 
edness in high places; but with ignorance in all its degrees, 
and with depravity in all its forms. He will find it, not in 
metaphysical disquisitions, but in the actual agency of Christ in 
the concerns of his church; in the increasing clearness and force 
with which the great designs of Christ are developed, as they re- 
spect each individual, and all mankind; as they respect this 
world^ and the life to come. This mode of communicating to us 
our religion, seems to me to be, of all that can be supposed, 
the most suited to display the wisdom, and power, and mercy 
of God; the most suited to form the character, to which it ad- 
dresses its promises. 

The grand arsenal of theological controversy, is in the epis- 
tolary department of the New Testament; in which were some 
things hard to be understood, even in the days of the apostles. 
How much harder still then is it, at this time, to arrive at that 
certainty in regard to these obscurities, which will justify any 
one in pronouncing authoritatively upon their import? One 
thing, however, I think we may affirm without fear; which is, 
that these epistles contain no doctrine, which is not contained 
in the teaching of our Lord, as it is transmitted to us by the 
Evangelists. The author and finisher of our faith did not leave 



297 

in the Father, and that the Father is in 
him; that the Father has sanctified, and 

a defective religion, and commission his apostles to perfect it. 
In regard both to doctrine, and to duty, there is, and must be, 
throughout the New Testament, a perfect unity of character. 
Any contrariety that may appear in these epistles, is the result 
of the peculiar circumstances under which the apostles taught; 
the peculiar objections to our religion which they had to obviate; 
the misconstructions of christian truth, which they had to cor- 
rect; the inquiries of churches — now, perhaps, but very im- 
perfectly understood by us — which they had to answer; and 
the contentions, which they had to settle. Forget that these 
epistles are "accommodated to the disputes and controversies, 
the errours and false notions, which prevailed when they were 
written," and we shall be exposed to as many misconceptions of 
their true import, as they were themselves designed to expose, 
and to remove. 

"The general method observable in these apostolic letters is, 
first, to discuss the particular point debated in the church, or 
among the persons to whom they are addressed, and which 
was the occasion of their being written; and in the next place, 
to give such exhortations to every christian duty and virtue, as 
would be at all times, and in every church, of necessary and 
absolute importance; paying a particular regard to those vir- 
tues, which the disputes that occasioned the epistle might tempt 
them to neglect. Now the former part of these epistolary 
writings cannot be rightly understood, but by attending care- 
fully to the state of the question there determined. Therefore 
the errours and vain disputes concerning Faith and Works, 
Justification and Sanctification, Election, Reprobation, &c, 
which have so long vexed, and distracted the minds of chris- 
tians, have all arisen from one grand mistake; that of apply- 
ing to themselves, or to other particular persons now, certain 

38 



298 

sent him into the world, for the instruction 
and salvation of men ; that he came to 
seek and to save that which was lost ; that 
he speaks the words, and does the work of 
his Father ; that he can do nothing of him- 
self ; but that God has given him power 
to bring to eternal life, and to eternal 
happiness, all who receive, and obey him.* 
See, then, how the Evangelists carry our 
religion through all the trials, through 
which our Lord himself was carried. 

In the four gospels, we have narratives 
of the conversation and conduct, as well 
of the enemies, as of the friends of Jesus. 
Here, in almost every direction, we see 
new adversaries of his person, and of his 

phrases or passages, which plainly referred to the then state and 
condition, not of particular persons, but of whole churches, 
whether Jewish or Gentile, of those times. Perplexed and 
puzzled with these knotty points, many well meaning christians 
have been drawn from paying a due regard to those moral, and 
weighty exhortations, which are most easy to be understood, 
and of infinite obligation to be put in practice." Pyle. See 
Percy's Key to the New Testament, p. 80. 

*Johnxiv. 10, 11, and x. 36, 37. — Luke xix. 10. — John iii. 
35, and v. 19-30. 



299 

cause ; new combinations forming against 
him ; new artifices adopted to ensnare him 
in his words, to disappoint him in his pur- 
poses, to destroy his influence, and to 
justify designs upon his life. Here we 
are told of the occupations and weak- 
nesses, the doubts and credulity, the dis- 
putes and contentions of his apostles ; of 
the treachery of one of them ; of the pre- 
sumption of another, his cowardice, and 
denial of his Master ; and of the faithless- 
ness of all of them, when they forsook 
him and fled. And here are related the 
grounds of the opposition of those who 
rejected him ; their machinations ; and 
their final success in his crucifixion. 
Greater embarrassments, and more for- 
midable obstacles, than were those which 
our Lord had daily to meet and to over- 
come, are not even to be imagined. And 
yet he established his religion. How? 

The two methods adopted by him for 
this end were, preaching, and conversation. 
He is night and day surrounded by mul- 
titudes, but he never courts observation, 



300 

and never shuns it. He teaches in the 
temple, in the synagogue, in the house, in 
the streets, and in the fields ; varying his 
instructions, and manner of imparting 
them, with all the varying circumstances 
of every occasion. — Now, he is dispelling 
ignorance by the most familiar and con- 
descending explanations ; and now, com- 
batting prejudice and errour, with the 
most powerful reasonings. Now, he is 
indirectly communicating by parables, 
what they who heard him, would indig- 
nantly have repelled, if it had been more 
directly taught ; and now, he is explicitly 
announcing the most glorious, and the 
most solemn truths, as those around him 
were prepared to receive them. Now, he 
is encouraging the timid, strengthening 
the feeble, and animating those who have 
begun well ; and now he is pouring the 
wine and oil of his consolations into the 
wounded heart. Now, in language as 
sweet as can be conceived to be that of 
heaven, he is dispensing promises, which 
comprehend all that can be hoped for in 



30i 

heaven ; and now, in accents only less 
terrible than will be those, with which he 
will at last say to the impenitent, depart ye 
cursed ! he pronounces the most dreadful 
condemnation upon the obdurate enemies 
of truth and virtue. Here is a zeal, a 
tenderness, and a compassion, of which 
there had been no example. No com- 
promise is made with a single sin. No 
sinner, whatever may be his rank, or his 
pretensions, is spared. Nay, it is against 
the very religionists of the age, the proud 
asserters of their own piety, that he directs 
his most solemn woes. The design of 
Jesus is, to establish the kingdom — the 
perfect moral government — of God, in 
every heart. Against secret, and open 
opposition, therefore, he exposes all that 
is evil, not alone in the prevailing charac- 
ter of the time, and in established usage, 
but in fluctuating opinions ; in affections 
and desires ; and in all the inducements, 
and motives, of those who heard him. He 
lays bare all that hypocrisy attempts to 
cover ; and exhibits sin as a disease of the 



302 

soul, threatening spiritual death. He de- 
clares himself to be the Great Physician, 
who alone can administer a remedy, that 
will save from moral death ; the death of 
happiness. Here see the doctrines and 
duties of our religion, taught in connexion 
with circumstances, which give to them 
the greatest possible illustration and power. 
Can a manner be conceived of proposing 
religious instruction to man, in which it 
will be brought to a severer trial ; in which 
duty, in the ever changing circumstances 
of human temptation, could have been 
more powerfully enforced ; or excitement 
and comfort, in all our afflictions, more 
effectually administered ? 

It is a very remarkable peculiarity of 
our Lord's teaching, that he seldom asserts 
his divine mission, or declares himself to 
be the Messiah, but when peculiar circum- 
stances compel him to it. He prefers to 
leave the question of his claims to be felt, 
in his instructions, and in his works. And 
what were his works? He is every day 
performing the most stupendous miracles. 



3°3 

They are performed, too, as well before 
his most inveterate enemies, whose inves- 
tigation of them he challenges, as before 
his chosen followers. They are performed 
with the same simplicity, with which God 
said, let there be light ! and there was light. 
And they have the same character of be- 
nevolence and mercy, which distinguishes 
all his instructions. They inspire as well 
the warmest love to himself, and the most 
active compassion towards every sufferer, 
as conviction of his own divine authority. 
Now I ask, if it be not also very remark- 
able, that, neither in their accounts of the 
teaching, and miracles of our Lord, nor in 
anything that they have said of his actions, 
or sufferings, the Evangelists have ex- 
pressed one emotion of admiration of his 
character ; nor have employed an epithet, 
for the excitement of admiration of it in 
others. Like himself, they have left his 
character and authority to be inferred, and 
felt, from what is seen, and heard. Little 
to be envied is that mind, which is insen- 
sible to this peculiarity of our Lord's con- 



304 

duct ; and of those records, in which a 
knowledge of it is conveyed to us. 

I will adduce but one other peculiarity 
of the manner in which our Lord taught 
his religion. It is, however, a circumstance, 
to which too much importance cannot be 
attached ; which has no parallel in any 
other religion ; and, in the disregard of 
which, it is impossible to form a just con- 
ception of Christianity. The circumstance 
to which I refer is, that our religion was 
taught, and is to be sought \ in the example 
and life of Christ. 

It will be conceded, that the precepts of 
Jesus comprehend all the moral duties of 
man ; all that man owes to his Maker, and 
to his fellow-creatures ; and that these 
precepts, received as the will of God, and 
faithfully applied to every part of disposi- 
tion and conduct, would form a perfect 
man. It will be conceded too, even by 
one who doubts of the divine mission of 
our Lord, that these precepts, considered 
apart from our Lord's character and life, 
and viewed alone in their bearings upon 



3°5 

the occasions on which they were given, 
and the individuals to whom they were 
applied, are obviously adapted to do more 
for the subjection of all evil passions ; 
more to purify the heart in all its sources 
of feeling and of action ; more to raise 
man to a moral resemblance of God ; to 
bring universal peace upon earth, and to 
inspire a hope full of immortality, — a hap- 
piness which we could all wish should be 
immortal, — than had ever before been 
done, or attempted ; or, than had ever 
entered the thought of man. The most 
enlightened reason, acting upon human 
experience, from the time of Jesus till this 
hour, has not discovered a religious, or 
moral obligation, which is not plainly 
comprised in his instructions. Take the 
fact, then, as unquestionable, and certainly, 
not less extraordinary, that there is not a 
duty that he required, repentance alone 
excepted, which he did not practice. Do 
we then see in our Lord absolute moral 
perfection ? How shall we account for 
this phenomenon ? It is a perfection, too, 

39 



306 

that is attained, as it must be in ourselves, 
in the highest degree in which we may 
arrive at it in this world, by difficulty, and 
suffering. We see him, at almost every 
step of his way, meeting with new impedi- 
ments, and with many, that are apparently 
insurmountable ; but always rising in moral 
greatness, and in moral loveliness and 
attraction, in proportion to the resistance 
of the circumstances under which he is 
acting. Is not ours, then, a religion pecu- 
liarly suited to the exigences of a state 
of weakness, temptation and suffering? 
Could one uncommissioned, and unaided 
by God, have so taught, and so lived, as 
did Jesus ? 

I would ask any ingenuous man, who 
has never carefully read the gospels, and 
who is sceptical upon the question of the 
divine authority of our Lord, to make the 
attempt to read them with an unbiassed 
mind ; and then to say, whether in the 
nature of things, it be possible, that Chris- 
tianity could have been a fabrication of 
the Evangelists ; or whether, on the sup- 



Z°7 

position that our Lord taught in Judea, — 
the only conceivable one upon which we 
can account for these narratives, — it be 
possible, with any part of his conduct to 
reconcile the idea of imposture ; or to 
impeach one of his instructions, as un- 
worthy of a communication from God? 
Here is no mysterious oracle, uttering 
dark responses, capable of various con- 
struction, and accommodated to all the 
uncertainty of future events. Here is no 
assumption of authority, independent of 
evidence as unequivocal, as miraculous 
power, and perfect holiness and virtue, 
can make it. Christianity lives, and acts, 
and inspires life, in the examples and facts 
with which it is associated. And has any 
other religion, in the character and life of 
its author, a support of its claims, for a 
moment to be compared with that of the 
religion of Christ? How, then, I ask 
again, shall we account for this character, 
and for this religion ? How, but by the 
admission that he was, what he assumed 
to be, the Son of God. 



3o8 

In the second place, I would remark, that 
it is a distinctive circumstance in the 
character of Christianity, from which also 
it derives distinctive claims* that in all its 
doctrines, it addresses itself directly to the 
reason, and judgment, of all mankind. 

In all the dispensations of God to man, 
that are recorded in the Old Testament, he 
has appealed to these highest principles of 
human nature. But Judaism, as far as it 
is distinguished from Christianity, was in- 
tended to be a local, and temporary dis- 
pensation. In these parts of it, therefore, 
it could not have approved itself to the 
judgment of all men, had the attempt been 
made, to obtain for it an acknowledgment 
of its universal obligation. Its great de- 
sign was, to preserve in the world the 
knowledge, and worship of the one true 
God ; to teach the purest principles and 
rules of virtue, which the Jews, as God's 
people, were then capable of receiving; 
and to be preparatory to the more spiritual 
dispensation, in which it was God's pur- 
pose to reveal himself to all mankind. 



3°9 

All beside, in Judaism, was but incidental 
to this design, and passed away at the 
introduction of Christianity. But in its 
addresses to the reason and conscience of 
man, our religion looks far beyond Judaism, 
and it overlooks every other religion. It 
has in it nothing that is local, nothing that 
is partial. It does not indeed profess to 
be, exclusively, a new religion ; but rather, 
the completion of the plans of God, for the 
moral renovation of the world. It assumes, 
therefore, from the revelations that pre- 
ceded it, all that was intended to be per- 
petual ; and proposes, with what itself 
reveals, to aim at universal empire. How? 
By requiring implicit faith ? No. But by 
calling upon all men to understand its 
doctrines, as well as to believe them. By 
teaching doctrines, which, the more they 
are examined, are found more to illustrate 
the infinite wisdom, the perfect impartiality 
and justice, and the adorable love and 
mercy, of God. Its evidence, arising from 
the reasonableness of its doctrines, is as 



3io 

broad as are its claims ; as deep as are its 
eternal interests. 

That religion itself belongs to human 
nature, — that it makes a part of what is 
properly to be denominated human nature, 
— is demonstrated by the fact, that in no 
age, or country, of which we have any 
records, or information, has man been 
found without religion. Even where his 
intellectual powers have obtained only that 
partial development, which enables him to 
secure for himself few advantages, or com- 
forts, above those of the animals with 
which he shares the forests, undisturbed 
but by his contests with them ; and where 
his moral capacities, or rather, his moral ex- 
ercises, give him no very honourable claims 
of superiority over the creatures, whose 
attachment to each other, whose gratitude, 
and whose fidelity, we do not ascribe to 
moral principles; even in the most. ignor- 
ant, and most degraded state of human 
society, we find religion. Man everywhere 
has, and at all times has had, a feeling of 
his dependence on a power, or powers, 



3" 

superior to his own. He has sought to 
obtain the favour, and to avert the dis- 
pleasure, of these great agents, to which 
he has felt himself to be in subjection. 
Let the opponent of revelation say, if he 
please, that in every form in which religion 
exists among men, it is fairly to be as- 
cribed, not to the deductions of reason, 
but to the uncontrollable operation of fear ; 
and that, deprive man of his fears, and 
you equally deprive him of religion. Still, 
it is not to be denied, that the principle, 
whatever it may be, to which the influence 
of religion is to attributed, is, and ever has 
been, universal. It is as essential a prin- 
ciple of human nature, as is desire, or love. 
And, so far has been reason, in the prog- 
ress of society, from discovering that the 
fears, or the principles of our nature, call 
them what you will, in which religious 
feelings have their origin, are groundless, 
and unworthy of an improved condition of 
our race, that where men have been unen- 
lightened by revelation, the number both 
of gods, and of rites for their worship, has 



312 

been increased, with the arts and refine- 
ments of civilization. Yes, the very efforts 
of reason, for the discovery of the mind, 
and designs of God ; even the gods that 
have been worshipped ; the temples that 
have been reared to them ; the altars that 
have been raised ; the smoke of every 
sacrifice, and the prayers of every offerer 
of it ; all these bear witness, with the un- 
mixed fears of the most ignorant super- 
stition, that the necessity of religion is 
founded deeply in our nature ; that religion 
belongs to human nature. Even the de- 
sire of a revelation has been felt, and 
expressed, where its excitement can be 
ascribed only to the actings of reason, 
upon the indications of a moral govern- 
ment ; and the probabilities which nature 
suggests, of a life beyond the grave.* Is it 
not reasonable to suppose, then, either if 

* We are told of the most distinguished moral philosopher of 
heathen antiquity, that, having met one of his young disciples 
going into a temple to pray, and seeing him to be very pensive, 
and with his eyes fixed on the ground, he asked him, of what he 
was thinking? The inquiry led to a discussion on the subject of 
prayer. I quote a few sentences which we find in the close of 
their conversation. 



3*3 

man cannot, without supernatural aid, attain 
the religious knowledge that he wants, and 

Socrates. Do you not remember that you told me you were 
in great perplexity, through the fear that you should at unawares 
pray for evil things, while you designed to ask only for good? 

Alcibiades. I remember it very well, Socrates. 

Socrates. You see that it is not at all safe for you to go into 
the temple to pray, in the condition in which you now are, lest 
God, hearing your blasphemies, should reject your sacrifices; 
and to punish you, should give you what you would hot have. 
In my opinion, therefore, it is much better that you should be 
silent; for I know you well. Your pride, — for that is the soft- 
est name that I can give to your imprudence, — your pride, I say, 
probably will not permit you to use the prayer of the Lacede- 
monians, — who desire the gods to give them that which is comely ', 
with that which is good. Therefore it is altogether necessary 
that you should wait for some one to teach you how you ought 
to behave yourself both towards the gods, and men. 

Alcibiades. And when will that time come, Socrates? And 
who is he that will instruct me ? With what pleasure shall I 
look upon him ! 

Socrates. He will do it, who takes a true care of you. We 
read in Homer, that Minerva dissipated the mist that covered 
the eyes of Diomede, and prevented him from distinguishing 
God from man. So it is necessary, in the first place, that he 
should scatter the darkness that covers your soul; and after- 
wards give you the remedies that are required, to enable you to 
distinguish between good and evil. 

Alcibiades. Let him scatter this darkness of mine, and do 
whatever he pleases. I abandon myself to his conduct, and am 
ready to obey all his commands, provided I may but be made 
better by them. 

Dacier's Abridgement of Plato. Second Alcibiades. 

40 



3*4 

needs ; or having once possessed, has lost 
it ; that God would reveal himself to his 
intelligent, and moral offspring? Admit 
that it is, and we fear not any investigation 
that can be made, of the reasonableness of 
the doctrines of our religion. — Hear, and 
understand, is the language of Jesus to all to 
whom he addresses his doctrines. Prove 
all things, says the great apostle of the 
Gentiles ; and hold fast that which is good. 

Without entering minutely into a con- 
sideration of christian doctrines, — which 
the time forbids, — let me ask you, first, to 
compare the actual character and condition 
of man in this world, with the views which 
are presented of them in our religion. 

The principle, which runs through all the 
preceding dispensations of God, is also 
fundamental in Christianity, that the whole 
world lieth in wickedness ; that, all have 
sinned, and come short of the glory of God ; 
and, if we say that we have no sin, we de- 
ceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. 
This principle, everywhere recognized in 
our Lord's teaching, must everywhere be 



3^5 

kept in view, when we are considering his 
instructions. In the eye of Jesus, man is 
a being of exalted moral powers, and moral 
relations. He is a child of God ; and de- 
signed for an immortal existence of moral 
exercises, and of moral happiness. But he 
is a being too, equally wonderful in his 
weaknesses ; in his ignorance ; in the 
strength and perversion of his passions ; 
in his subjection to sense, and to appetite ; 
in his proneness to the earth, and to the 
lusts and vices of the world. In the view 
of Jesus, sin is a disease, which has ex- 
tended to the whole of our race. He says 
nothing, indeed, of the origin of moral evil. 
It is a question which has nothing to do 
with practical religion. His great concern 
is with the fact, man is, everywhere, a sinner. 
He is therefore, everywhere, to be re- 
claimed, and renewed. In forming our 
judgment, then, of christian doctrine, as 
far as it respects the character and con- 
dition of man in this world, — and this is a 
greatly important view of it, — let history, 
let observation, let experience give their 



316 

testimony. The appeal is to facts, and it 
is addressed to every heart. We ask only, 
that every individual, in determining the 
question, are you, or are you not, a sinner, 
should also fairly consider, what are the 
moral powers which God has given him ; 
and what are the duties, which, in consis- 
tency with these powers, God may at last 
most justly demand of him. 

Again, let us view our religion in its 
great designs in regard to mankind. 

What are they ? Nothing less than the 
recovery of man from sin ; the renewal of 
every heart from all that is evil ; the sub- 
jection of every passion to the will of God ; 
the control of every thought ; the sanctifi- 
cation of every affection. It would trans- 
fuse into every one who receives it, the 
very spirit of Christ. It would exalt each 
one, as nearly as he can be brought, to the 
measure of the stature of the fulness of 
Christ. It is the design of our religion, 
not merely to establish a more perfect 
system of ethics, than had before been 
taught, and to bring immortal life to the 



3*7 

light of perfect day ; but, by its instructions 
concerning the character and government 
of God, its warnings and threatenings 
against sin ; and its descriptions, as pecu- 
liar, of the character and happiness of 
heaven ; to bring man to the highest moral 
exercises ; to the most perfect virtue ; to 
the purest devotion ; and to preparation for 
heaven. It teaches that, withotit holiness, 
no flesh shall see the Lord; and, it would 
make every man, a partaker of the divine 
nature. What, then, has reason to adduce 
against these designs ? It is said, they are 
impracticable? Infidelity cannot bring an- 
other objection against them, that is even 
plausible. They are not only consistent 
with the worthiest sentiments that we can 
form of God, but they give to these sen- 
timents the strongest exercise, in every 
heart that feels them. They are not only 
consistent with the highest capacity of our 
nature, that of indefinite religious and moral 
improvement ; but they prescribe the only 
rule, by which the greatest possible prog- 
ress can be secured ; by which the relative 



3«* 

perfection, of which we are not without 
examples, may be attained in this world. 

It is a poor and low conception of our 
religion, that its end, in regard to us, is 
accomplished, either by any external ob- 
servances ; or by a piety and virtue which 
we may approve, when measured by any 
other standard than that of the gospel. 
The great peculiarities of Christianity are 
to be seen, in its adaptation to the cir- 
cumstances of a world of sinners ; and in 
its provisions for the forgiveness, and ac- 
ceptance of God, which it would obtain for 
us. It proposes to produce as great a 
change of heart and character in every 
individual, as would be effected, if he were 
all that the instructions of Christ could 
make him. Cast out of Christianity what 
is remedial in it — what concerns its pur- 
poses and means of mercy for sinners, and 
it is a religion for angels ; for intelligences, 
pure as those of the heaven to which it 
calls us. Is reason, then, offended, that 
great means should be employed, for ends 
so great as are proposed by our religion ? 



3*9 

Is reason offended, that God should send 
his Son, for the restoration, and salvation 
of men ? 

Christianity teaches, also, that God will 
give his holy spirit to them that ask him. 
And is it unreasonable, that creatures who 
are exposed to so many temptations, and 
who are called to such attainments ; that 
children of such a Father, in their desires 
and endeavours to obtain his favour, should 
be permitted to ask, and should be assured 
of receiving, the assistance which they 
need from him ? If we are called to the 
holiness of the first disciples of our Lord ; 
to the same willingness to forsake all, if it 
be necessary, in order to follow Christ ; 
and if we have to struggle with the same 
opposing interests of passions, with which 
they had to contend ; do we, less than they 
did, require the supports, and excitements, 
and consolations of the spirit of God ? 

Or, I would ask, has reason anything to 
bring against the doctrine, of the death of 
our Lord Jesus Christ for us ; the doctrine, 
that his blood was shed for the remission of 



320 

sins. It is indeed most irrational to sup- 
pose, that the innocent, the holy Jesus, 
died as a substitute for sinners ; that he 
suffered the punishment of their sins. Pun- 
ishment necessarily implies guilt, in him 
who is the subject of it ; nor will the term 
admit of application to the sufferings of 
one who is innocent, whatever he may 
endure in the cause of the guilty. Nor is 
there a word like this, in the teaching 
either of our Lord, or of his apostles, on 
this deeply interesting, and important sub- 
ject. Neither is there a word in the New 
Testament, of the imputation of our sins 
to our Lord, or of the imputation of his 
righteousness to those who believe in him. 
He that doeth righteousness, and he only, 
is, or can be, righteous. But it is most 
true, and worthy of all acceptation, that 
our Lord died to redeem, or to deliver us 
from all iniquity ; and to purify us unto 
himself, a peculiar people, zealous of good 
works. He died for us, because he loved 
us ; and to manifest the love and mercy of 
his Father, who sent him to bless us, by 



321 

turning us away, every one, from our in- 
iquities. The death of our Lord, therefore, 
is designed to be a means of our forgive- 
ness, by bringing us to true repentance ; 
and thus, cleansing our conscience from 
dead works, to serve the living God ; by 
exercising in our hearts a corresponding 
love of God, and of our Saviour ; and by 
exciting us to all the duty, to which he 
calls us. In this view of it, the death of 
our Lord operates for our redemption, or 
the forgiveness of our sins, by its influence 
in delivering us from the power of sin ; 
and by forming us to the character, to 
which he promises forgiveness, and the 
happiness of heaven. And this influence 
it will exert upon us, in proportion as we 
feel our entire dependence on God's mercy, 
for acceptance in the day of our account, 
and for final blessedness. We fear not, 
then, to bring these, and all the doctrines 
of our religion, — let them but be derived 
pure from the scriptures in which they 
have come down to us, — to the test of 
unperverted reason. Let passion, let 
41 



322 

prejudice be repressed, and all the doc- 
trines of Christ will have all the evidence 
to our minds, which consistency with un- 
questionable facts, with all that is known 
of God, and with all that is known of our 
own nature, can give to them. 

Much errour has resulted from the idea, 
that it was a design of revelation to teach 
the metaphysical nature, and essence of 
God. Hence, there has been as bold a 
spirit of enterprise, and of adventure, in 
the work of making discoveries in revela- 
tion, as in any of the departments of 
natural science ; and poor, short sighted 
creatures, who know not in what consists 
the vitality of a plant, have attempted to 
fathom the depths of the infinite, and 
eternal Mind. Alike fruitful too of errour 
is the supposition, assumed as it has been, 
as an elementary principle in reasoning 
upon the subject, that it was a design of 
the death of our Lord Jesus Christ, to 
induce God, unwilling in himself, to the 
exercise of compassion, and to the bestow- 
ment of forgiveness. But so taught not 



3 2 3 

our Lord. All that had been revealed of 
the divine character, will and purposes, he 
takes for granted ; and reasons from it, as 
known and established truth. The simple 
unity of God ; his almighty power, and 
perfect wisdom and goodness ; his moral 
government of the world ; his design to 
bless, and to reward the good, and to 
punish the obdurately wicked ; and, his 
placability, — his willingness to pardon the 
penitent ; — these great doctrines, instead 
of being columns in the christian church, 
are, in fact, materials of its foundation. 
Thus saith the Lord, the king of Israel, and 
his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts ; I am the 
first, and I am the last ; and beside me there 
is no God. I am he that blotteth out thy 
transgressions for mine own sake, and will 
not reme7nber thy sins* Is it asked, then, 
what are the peculiar doctrines of Chris- 
tianity ? I answer, they are the doctrines, 
that the knowledge and worship of the one 
true God, which had been confined to 

* Isaiah xliv. 6, and xliii. 20. 



3^4 

Judea, is to be made universal ; that 
Jehovah is equally the God of the Gentiles, 
as of the Jews ; and that he is to be wor- 
shipped, not by oblations and sacrifices, 
but in spirit, and in truth. And is it little 
that we owe to Christianity, in its design 
to spread the knowledge and worship of 
the one true God, over the world? They 
are the doctrines, that if we confess our 
sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us 
our sins, and to cleanse us from all unright- 
eousness ; * and that, whosoever believeih on 
the Son of God, and followeth him, hath 
everlasting life.f The peculiar doctrines 
of Christianity are to be sought, not in 
new definitions of God, for our Saviour 
has not given them ; nor in a division of 
the divine nature into distinct persons, for 
there is no such division in any of his 
instructions concerning the Father ; nor, in 
the notion, that God was, in himself, im- 
placable, for it is not authorized by an 
expression of the Old, or of the New 

* I John i. 9. f John iii. 15, 18, 36; and viii. 12. 



325 

Testament. No. They are to be sought 
in the abundant language of our Lord, and 
of his apostles, concerning the underived 
love of our Father in heaven, towards his 
guilty family of man ; that love, which was 
manifested, and proved, peculiarly by the 
mission and instructions, the sufferings 
and death of Christ, in the cause of our 
salvation. They are to be sought, in the 
instructions of our Lord and his apostles, 
concerning that repentance y to which all 
are called, to whom a knowledge of his 
religion is extended. They are to be 
sought, in all that we are taught in the 
New Testament, concerning the christian 
character; concerning the character of 
heaven ; concerning the certainty, and the 
principles, of the judgment that awaits us, 
and all mankind ; the future, and tremen- 
dous consequences of unrepented sin ; and 
the unspeakable, the eternal felicity, prom- 
ised to the penitent, — to the obedient. 
Here, then, are appeals, not to speculative 
philosophers, to whom religion is a mere 
theory of faith, but, to men who would 



326 

reason of the concerns of their eternal 
well-being. Here are instructions, suited 
to the most exalted conceptions that can 
be formed of God ; suited to our nature, 
and condition ; suited to secure the im- 
mortal happiness of all, who shall be 
brought under their influence. And is not 
this, we may boldly ask, a religion, which 
has, in itself, a complete justification of all 
the claims it can make upon us ? 

From very early time, it has been the 
folly, the guilt, and the misery of man, that 
he has thought that he could improve 
the revelations of God, by bringing them 
into another form, than that in which it 
pleased the Divine Being to give them ; 
by making clear what God has left obscure ; 
by obtaining, through a process of infer- 
ence, what it has not pleased God to 
teach ; and by establishing, what is called 
order, and harmony, in his dispensations. 
By this most daring presumption, our re- 
ligion suffered greatly, even in the days of 
the apostles. There were, even then, 
those who thought that Christianity was 



327 

very imperfect, and defective, without the 
rites of Judaism ; and others, that it re- 
quired the prevailing principles of the 
philosophy of the time, to make it alto- 
gether worthy of God. Nor were there 
wanting those, who thought that the very 
rites of heathenism might be advanta- 
geously appended to it, in view of its great 
object, of bringing all to the acknowledg- 
ment of its truth, and the observance of 
its worship. And, when the New Testa- 
ment, at the reformation, had been rescued 
from its incarceration in the cells of monks, 
and published in languages in which the 
people of Christendom might read it, and 
judge for themselves concerning religious 
truth, and right, and duty; it was immedi- 
ately, and strongly felt, that if the religion 
of Christ were to be learned by the people 
from the New Testament alone, they would 
have no just conception of its design, and 
no order, and consistency, in their faith. 
It was felt, and feared, that these records 
of the life and teaching of our Lord and 
his apostles, might lead to errours in 



328 

opinion, which it was as desirable to prevent, 
as it had been to escape from those, from 
which the reformers themselves had but 
just been emancipated. It was therefore 
one of the first objects of the great agents 
in the work of the reformation, to bring 
the doctrines of these immethodical records 
into a system ; and from that time to the 
present, system has followed system, and 
creed has been succeeded by creed, till 
almost every variety, and contradiction of 
opinion, has obtained, in one and another 
of christian sects, the dignity of a christian 
doctrine ; and has its advocates, who claim 
for it the sanction of the authority of 
Christ. Nay, such has been the ascend- 
ancy, which these systems of human device 
have obtained ; so extensively, in regard 
to them, has the New Testament been 
read, and studied ; so much has it been 
the object of preaching to teach, and to 
maintain them ; and so exclusively, with a 
view to them, have a large part of the 
churches of the christian world been 
erected, and supported ; that few, com- 



329 

paratively, if asked, what are the great 
characteristic doctrines of Christianity, 
would think of referring immediately to 
the New Testament for an answer. The 
resort would rather be, to the peculiarities 
of the sect to which they belong. But, 
blessed be God ! a happier era has begun, 
and is advancing. Not only is the right 
of every individual acknowledged, to in- 
quire for himself, what is christian doctrine ; 
but the duty is also extensively felt, and 
its corresponding obligations. The horizon 
of Christendom is brightening everywhere 
around us ; and our conviction is receiving 
all the strength, which fact, as well as 
promise, can give to it, that the grain of 
mustard seed that was sown by the Son of 
God, will become a tree, which will cover 
the hills with its shadow ; which will send 
forth its boughs unto the sea, and its 
branches to the ends of the earth. 

The last circumstance of Christianity 

which I will mention, from which it derives 

its distinctive character, and which justifies 

all the claims it can possibly make upon 

42 



33° 

us, is, that it meets, accounts for, and pro- 
poses to accomplish, all the wants of our 
immortal nature. 

The wants of our immortal nature. Does 
any one ask, what are they ? I answer, 
they are the wants which this world never 
satisfied, and never can satisfy. There are 
indeed wants of our nature, which the 
objects of this world, and the economy of 
God's daily providence, were designed to 
accomplish. But these are the wants which 
we have in common with the creatures 
below us. Deprive man of his rational, 
and moral nature, and you prepare him, in 
these objects, and in this economy, to find 
satisfaction. It is found, by the creatures 
that are without reason, and without a 
moral nature. But improve reason, and 
advance society in knowledge, and in arts, 
and proportionally, you multiply wants; 
you increase the impatience, the restless- 
ness, and the dissatisfactions of want. 
See how many, how craving, how impor- 
tunate are the demands, even of the most 
prosperous, whose hearts, and whose hopes, 



33i 

rise not above this world ! How many, 
too, are the reverses, and the afflictions, in 
which the heart implores consolation and 
support, that the world cannot give ! See, 
also, the wants of our immortal nature, as 
they are shewn by the excited conscience 
of an awakened sinner ! See them, as 
they crowd upon one another, and contend 
for utterance, when the feeling is brought 
home with power, of the certainty, and the 
nearness, of death ! Other religions, to 
the extent to which they recognise these 
wants, of course propose to meet, and to 
supply them. But it is Christianity, and 
Christianity alone, that penetrates to the 
remotest depths of our nature, and accounts 
for all its dissatisfaction with the objects 
' of earth and time. It is Christianity alone 
that enables us distinctly to understand, 
what it is that the heart pants for, when it 
would obtain what the world cannot give 
us. It is Christianity alone that directs us 
to the objects and ends, in which the soul 
may find eternal satisfaction. And it is 
Christianity alone that supplies the means, 



33* 

by which these objects and ends are to be 
attained by us. Our religion, indeed, by 
the new objects of happiness which it 
reveals, has opened new fountains of de- 
sire in every heart that receives it. But, 
if it be suited to accomplish all the desires 
of our nature, of which, otherwise, we 
cannot obtain satisfaction, have we not, in 
this peculiarity of it, a strong indication of 
its truth ; and a vindication, not lightly to 
be esteemed, of its claims upon our faith, 
our affections, and our lives ? 

It is surely a purpose, most worthy of a 
dispensation from God, to solve the prob- 
lem, which has ever baffled, and we have 
reason to think, must forever have baffled 
the unaided reason of man, why does dis- 
appointment, dissatisfaction, and still in- 
satiable want, lie at the end of every effort, 
and of every course, in which man seeks for 
happiness, in the possessions, and indul- 
gences of this world? 

Of the fact implied, no one will ask for 
proof. It is enough to appeal to every 
heart, if the most complete accomplishment 



333 

that was ever obtained of earthly hope, 
was not soon, very soon, either followed 
by disappointment ; or by new wants, as 
restless, and as clamorous as those, the 
satisfaction of which, it seemed, would fill 
up the measure of desire? Why, then, is 
it, that, of all the creatures of the earth, 
man alone has wants, which earth and time 
cannot satisfy ? Why, when we think that 
we have obtained our object, does desire 
soon derive ten-fold enlargement from pos- 
session ; or satiated with fulness, turn from 
it with aversion ? Seek an answer to these 
inquiries in any other religion ; and, if it 
teaches the doctrine of immortality, and 
directs the faith and hopes of its believers 
to another world, still, its most exalted 
conception of immortal felicity, is in its 
promise of an eternal gratification of our 
present senses, appetites and passions. 
Miserable expedient ! For, what are these 
wants, which leave alike dissatisfied, the 
miser amidst his hoards, and the prodigal 
in his expenditures ? What are these wants, 
which the most successful enterprise does 



334 

but inflame ; in the excitements of which, 
ambition, like the grave, never says, it is 
enough ; the disappointments of which are 
daily seen, and felt, in the vexations and 
resentments, of pride and vanity; which 
prey upon the epicure, even while in the 
enjoyment of his richest banquets ; and 
which are the torture of the sensualist, in 
the very fulness of what he thought would 
be his highest delight ? Ask our religion, 
what are these wants ? and it will tell you, 
that they are the admonitions of God, that 
this is not the place of our rest; that we 
were created for infinitely higher interests, 
and purer happiness. It will tell you, that 
they are at once appointments of God for 
our trial ; and the strivings of God, to 
excite us to seek our happiness, where 
alone it can be found, in Himself ; in the 
love of perfect purity, and goodness, and 
love ; in the exercises and ends of desire, 
which will maintain the dominion of the 
higher, over the lower faculties of our 
nature ; and which will secure to us, in 
the eternal improvement of these faculties, 



335 

joys, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, 
and which it hath not entered into the mind 
of man to conceive. See, then, how Chris- 
tianity meets, and accounts for, this phe- 
nomenon in the moral condition of man ! 
It teaches us, that these unsatisfied, and 
insatiable wants, arise from our moral 
nature ; from that nature, which allies us 
to angels. It teaches us, that when we 
are not happy, it is because we are seek- 
ing for satisfaction, where God never in- 
tended that we should find it. It teaches 
us, that we cannot be happy, — that the 
wants of our immortal nature cannot be 
supplied, — till we feel, and strongly feel, 
our relation to the great Author of our 
being and affections, and fasten our desires 
upon Himself, as our chief good. It comes 
from that heaven to which it would exalt 
us, to breathe into every soul that will 
receive it, the very spirit of heaven. Say, 
then, if God's moral providence be not 
completely justified by our religion, in the 
disappointments, and miseries, that result 
from a reliance on passion, and the world, 



336 

for happiness? Will anything short of 
the christian's heaven, fill up the measure 
of our desires, and make our happiness 
perfect, and eternal ? 

My brethren, had our religion alone 
established the certainty of an immortal 
existence for man, I am ready to say, that 
it would have done comparatively little. 
But it has done, what it will not be pre- 
tended has been done, by any other 
religion. In the immortality which it 
reveals, it has provided for wants, which 
belong as essentially to our nature, as do 
hunger and thirst ; which have been felt at 
all times ; but which were never before 
distinctly understood, because no other 
religion had revealed the objects, which, 
by fully meeting them, had enabled those 
who felt, fully to explain them. They are 
the wants which have caused men gladly 
to embrace, and tenaciously to retain, even 
the grossest superstitions, rather than be 
without religion. I refer not alone to the 
want of a guiding wisdom, and a protect- 
ing power, superior to our own. Nor alone 



337 

to the universal desire, which has been 
as unequivocally expressed, to penetrate 
into the future ; to look beyond the grave ; 
and, by every means to strengthen con- 
viction, of the reality of the things hoped 
for, in an eternal futurity. I refer to wants 
of the heart ; of the affections. I refer to 
the want of an object, or of objects, which 
may be forever loved, and enjoyed, undis- 
turbed by the opposition of rival passions; 
and in the possession and love of which, 
we may be forever secure of that progress, 
in all that can exalt our nature, the very 
capacity of which, is its highest glory. I 
ask, then, if our religion, by the sentiments 
it gives us of God ; by the views which it 
opens to us of heaven ; by the new re- 
lations into which it brings man at once to 
his Maker, to his Saviour, to his fellow 
creatures, and to the eternal world which 
it reveals, has not given a direction to the 
wants of our intellectual and moral nature, 
in which, increase them in number as you 
will, and enlarge each of them as you may, 
every soul may obtain assurance of ultimate, 

43 



338 

and perfect satisfaction ? Yes, darkened 
as is the human mind by ignorance, and 
depraved as is the heart by sin, it is still 
the glory of our nature, to be capable of 
indefinite, and eternal improvement. And 
it is the glory of our religion, that it reveals 
to its believers a state of existence, in 
which all our capacities of eternal progress 
and happiness, may be satisfied. It most 
distinctly teaches us also, that the wants of 
our hearts, to which all the objects of this 
world are so disproportioned, were de- 
signed for the very end, of raising our 
affections to the things that are above, where 
Christ sitteth at the right hand of God ; 
of engaging us in the cares, which concern 
our eternal interests ; of exciting us to 
cultivate the principles and dispositions, 
and to form the character and habits, which 
will secure for us the approbation and love, 
and the eternal service and enjoyment, of 
God. These wants then, instead of being 
evidences that our nature comes corrupted 
from the hands of God, are his wise ap- 
pointments for our trial, and preparation 



339 

for a better world. Let us but feel that 
they belong to our immortal nature, and 
let us seek for the satisfaction of them, in 
our preparation for the christian's immor- 
tality, and in their strongest excitement, 
ours may be the language, and the feeling 
of the apostle, as sorrowful, yet always 
rejoicing ; as poor, yet making many rich ; 
as having nothing, and yet, possessing all 
things. 

I cannot close this view of our subject, 
without a yet more distinct reference to 
a class of wants, for which satisfaction, or 
even alleviation, can be found only in 
religion ; and for which the gospel of Christ 
makes that provision, which should fill 
every heart with adoration and thanks- 
giving. I mean, the wants that are felt by 
an awakened sinner . 

These are wants, which are known in 
some degree under every form of religion ; 
for they grow out of the convictions of the 
just desert of sin, which are felt as exten- 
sively, as the distinction is recognized 
between moral good and evil. But, in its 



340 

new views of God, of duty, and of heaven, 
Christianity gives us new views of sin, and 
new sentiments of its deserts. And, per- 
haps, more has not been sustained in this 
world, than has been suffered by many ten 
thousands in Christendom, in their strong 
apprehensions of the judgment to come, 
and their conviction of just exposure to 
the condemnation of the impenitent. But, 
while our religion excites sentiments, pe- 
culiar to itself, of the guilt of disregarding, 
and of disobeying God ; while it admon- 
ishes us, that the punishment of the ob- 
durately wicked will be of fearful duration, 
and of a character to fill the heart with 
horror of sin ; and, while it addresses every 
individual of mankind as a sinner, and calls 
every one to repentance ; still, its threaten- 
ings, and every circumstance of it that is 
intended to impress us with the guilt, and 
danger, of transgressing its laws, not less 
even than its commands and promises, 
have the great design, of reclaiming us 
from evil ; of securing our fidelity ; and 
thus, of obtaining our salvation, God has 



34i 

not appointed us unto wrath ; but to obtain 
salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ* 
The unutterably glorious doctrine of the 
gospel of the blessed God, is, it is a faith- 
ful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, 
that Christ Jesus came into the world, to 
save siNNERS.f The threatenings of the 
great Author of our faith, stand in our 
religion, as buoys placed here and there 
upon the shore of eternity, to admonish us 
of the rocks, on which, if we are wrecked, 
we are lost ; of the whirlpools into which, 
if we are so far drawn as to be past recov- 
ery, our misery will be just, and inevitable. 
But what can an awakened sinner, who 
would repent and return to God, desire, 
which Christianity will not give to him, in 
its free offers of forgiveness to all who will 
forsake their sins ; in its provision of a 
Mediator, an Advocate, an Intercessor for 
sinners ; in its offers of divine assistance 
to us, in the work of reformation ; and in 
the glory, with which it promises to crown 

* Thessalonians v. 9. f 1 Timothy i. 15. 



342 

our persevering endeavours to attain it? 
The blood of Christ is at once the great 
manifestation, and evidence, of his own 
love for us ; and of the compassion, and 
readiness to pardon, of the Father who 
sent him. It is our sure pledge, that not 
one hope, that is justified by his promises, 
will ever be disappointed. Has not Chris- 
tianity, then, combined in its character, all 
that can commend it to our reason, to our 
affections, and to our wants ? 

In some of its means, in regard to the 
universal dominion at which it aims, the 
religion of Christ is indeed a scheme, as 
yet but imperfectly comprehended by man. 
It is to receive new, and greatly important 
illustration, from events, the time, and 
manner of accomplishing which, are known 
only to God. As it is now seen in the 
world, it is obscured by idle, and presumpt- 
uous speculations ; corrupted by the addi- 
tions which human ignorance has made to 
it ; perverted by prejudices ; opposed by 
evil passions ; and abused to the very 
purposes, which it would utterly repress in 



343 

every heart. We see it, broken up into 
sects ; and assuming as many forms, and 
distinctive traits of character, as have the 
great parties, into which Christendom is 
divided. So, it may be, it has yet long to 
suffer. But, let us be animated by the 
assurance, that it will overpower all resist- 
ance, scatter all darkness, subdue all evil 
passions, and fill the earth with the knowl- 
edge, and the glory of God. Let this 
conviction be our confidence ; and, in the 
strength of it, let us watch and pray, that 
we may ourselves be found worthy in the 
day of the Lord. Sooner will heaven and 
earth pass away, than one word will fail 
which our God and Father has spoken unto 
us by his Son. 

This, my friends, is the religion, that 
claims the ministry, which we have this 
day established here, according to the 
institution of Christ. Ours is, therefore, 
emphatically, a ministry of reconciliation. 
It is a part of that glorious economy, by 
which God is designing to renew the moral 
world ; to make every heart a temple of 



344 

his holy spirit ; to prepare his moral off- 
spring on earth, for immortal felicity in 
heaven. I hardly need to say then, what 
the Christian Ministry should be ; what it 
must be, in order to the accomplishment of 
its unspeakably important ends. 

The model of a minister of Jesus should 
be, Jesus himself. Let us then, in the 
exercise of our ministry, look always to 
him as our great example. To a great 
extent, Christianity is still struggling 
against the same passions, and the same 
interests, which it had to resist in the days 
of our Lord, and his apostles ; and its 
claims upon us can be satisfied by nothing 
less, than the devotion of our whole hearts, 
and our whole lives, to its objects ; by a 
purity of character, an activity of benevo- 
lence, and a never ceasing zeal, in which it 
shall be seen, and felt, that the spiritual 
good, the greatest christian improvement, 
and the eternal salvation of those for whom 
we are appointed to labour, are always 
paramount in our minds. It claims of us, 
that w r e watch for souls as they that must 



345 

give account. It claims of us, that deep 
feeling of the greatness, and the holiness 
of its objects, which will make us willing 
to spend, and to be spent in its service ; 
which will make us instant in season, and 
out of season ; which will make us alive to 
God, through Jesus Christ ; alive to the 
feeling, that he who converteth a sinner 
from the errour of his ways, will save a 
soul from death, and hide a multitude of 
sins. Do we feel that we are but poor, 
feeble, unworthy instruments ? So should 
we feel, to excite us continually to seek 
our sufficiency from God ; for indeed, 
without him, we are nothing. But, blessed 
will be that servant, whom his Lord, when 
he cometh, shall find so doing ! 

My dear friend and brother, 

Deeply affected as I know you are, with 
a sense of the responsibility of the office 
with which you are this day invested, I 
hardly need to urge upon you the claims 
of our religion. But, you cannot feel 
them too strongly. You cannot have them 
44 



346 

too constantly before you. Favourable as 
are the circumstances, under which you 
enter upon the ministry in this place, you 
will find that, for the attainment of its 
objects, all the solicitude of your heart will 
be demanded ; all the earnestness, and 
vigilance, and labour, of which you are 
capable. To satisfy these claims, let your 
application be incessant to the Source of 
all wisdom, for guidance, and for strength. 
If you will be a faithful minister, you will 
have difficulties to encounter, not alto- 
gether unlike those of the master, to whom 
you have given yourself. May the dis- 
tinctive character of our religion be faith- 
fully maintained in your preaching, and 
illustrated in your life ! May you be the 
honoured instrument of bringing many, to 
the faith and obedience of the Son of God ; 
of bringing many to glory, and honour, 
and immortality ! Be faithful to every 
individual. Be faithful unto death. And, 
may the Lord give you the reward of a 
faithful servant ! 



347 

Brethren of this religious society, 

You have this day acknowledged one of 
the great claims of our religion, in the 
establishment you have made of the min- 
istry which it has appointed. But permit 
me to say to you, that the demands of 
Christianity extend far beyond the main- 
tainance of its ordinances. Its demands 
are as great, even as its promises. It 
claims the best exercise of your reason 
upon its doctrines, and its duties ; upon its 
immediate and its final purposes. It claims, 
not only an interest in your affections, but 
the possession of them ; the unreserved 
control of all their exercises. It claims the 
renovation of your heart from all that is 
unchristian in it ; your entire subjection to 
the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning 
you ; and your faithfulimprovement, under 
a sense of your responsibility for them, of 
all the means of forming a christian char- 
acter, and of preparation for an inheritance 
of the christian's reward. If the world is 
to be made better than it now is ; if vice is 
to be corrected, knowledge promoted, 



348 

character raised, and happiness advanced, 
it must be by the extension of the influence 
of our religion ; and it is a law of God's 
moral providence, that each one who be- 
lieves the gospel, should act in the cause 
of its advancement. Acknowledge then, 
my friends, and satisfy its claims, by an 
unreserved dedication of yourselves to God, 
through his Son ; by the consecration to 
him of your families ; by your daily prayers, 
and ready efforts, and cheerful sacrifices, 
for the interests of the church ; by culti- 
vating enlarged christian sympathies ; and 
by your supreme regard to God's accept- 
ance, in every desire, and in every pursuit 
of life. In these claims of our religion, 
see the ends of its ministry. They are the 
interests of your everlasting life with God, 
and Christ, and holy spirits in heaven. In 
the services of this house, may you, and 
may our children, find increasing light, 
and strength, and encouragement, and 
comfort, and peace ! May you have cause 
to look back with gratitude on the transac- 
tions of this hour, when you shall stand at 



349 

the judgment seat of Christ ; and may the 
ministry of this our beloved brother, be to 
you for exceeding joy, through the ages of 
eternity! 



AMEN ! 



THE CHARGE, 

BY REV. JAMES KENDALL, 
OF PLYMOUTH. 



My dear brother, 

You have already devoted yourself, 
and you have this day been publicly con- 
secrated by prayer and the imposition of 
hands to the sacred work of the Christian 
Ministry. You are now to receive the 
Charge from the Churches, which we 
represent. We claim by this service no 
dominion of your faith. We make no 
pretension to any authority to communi- 
cate spiritual or miraculous gifts, or powers. 
We assume no superiority of rights or 
privileges. We are not of the number, 
nor, we trust, of the temper and character 
of those who would say to any religious 



35i 

denomination, or to any individual chris- 
tian, Stand by thyself; come not nigh unto 
us ; for we are holier than thou. One is 
our Master, even Christ : And one is our 
Father, who is in heaven ; and all we are 
brethren. 

But as elder brethren, who have laboured 
a little longer in the faith and patience of 
Jesus Christ, we may be permitted to re- 
mind you of some of the duties, which 
from your pastoral office will devolve upon 
you ; the trials to which you may be called ; 
and the temper and character necessary 
and proper for you to cherish and main- 
tain, in order to discharge acceptably these 
duties, and endure as becometh a servant 
of the Lord the trials that await you. What 
we have to suggest on this occasion is 
implied in the Apostolic injunction ; — Take 
heed to thyself; and to thy doctrine; and 
to the flock over which the Churches by 
the authority of the Holy Ghost, have now 
made thee an overseer. In the spirit and 
language of this inspired injunction, there- 
fore, and with the sympathies of brethren, 



352 

you will bear with us, while we intreat and 
charge thee to 

Take heed to thyself. Not only your 
personal satisfaction and comfort, but your 
success and usefulness as a religious 
teacher and the good influence of your 
example will greatly depend, under God, 
on the attention you pay to your own 
heart and life. No man, whatever may 
be the station he is called to fill, can hope 
to be respected and honoured by others, 
if he feel no respect for, and pay no 
regard to himself. But the office you 
now hold is a sacred and an elevated 
one. It ought, therefore, to be magnified ; 
and magnified by cultivating the christian 
temper ; by cherishing and manifesting a 
christian spirit, and by portraying to the 
life the christian character. You are a city 
set upon a hill for the world to gaze at, for 
curiosity to pry into, and for bigotry and 
fanaticism to sit in judgment upon. Take 
heed that it be not stained by moral defile- 
ment ; that it be not disfigured by any 
fictitious ornament ; that there be nothing 



353 

either within or without that shall offend 
the eye or the taste of the most pure and 
pious observer. Never suffer your mind 
to be corrupted from the simplicity that is 
in Christ. Sanctify the Lord God in your 
heart ; — having a good conscience, that, 
whereas they should speak evil of you, as 
of an evil doer, they may be ashamed that 
falsely accuse your good conversation in 
Christ. Keep thyself pure. Let no man 
despise thee. 

To the purity and dignity that belong to 
the pastoral office, add the meekness and 
humility, the gentleness and condescen- 
sion, that were exemplified by our great 
High Priest, who has passed into the 
heavens. Beware of that austerity of 
manner and that gloominess of deport- 
ment, which would leave the impression, 
that religion must never be named nor 
11 approached, but with an altered tone, and 
a disfigured face." Let it be seen by your 
own example, that there is nothing for- 
bidding in her attire, nothing stern, but to 
profligacy and vice, in her address ; nothing 

45 



354 

unsocial in her intercourse with mankind. 
There may be cheerfulness without levity, 
and sobriety without moroseness. If you 
put on the Lord Jesus Christ you will be 
clothed with humility, and your adorning 
will be that of the hidden man of the 
heart, even the ornament of a meek and 
quiet spirit, which in the sight of God is of 
great price. Perfect yourself in that most 
important gift, an aptness to teach, con- 
nected with patience and meekness in 
instructing those who are slow to learn, 
and slower to believe, resisting the truth 
and opposing themselves. Keep the ex- 
ample of Christ always before you, and 
follow his steps. If you are reviled, learn 
of him not to revile again. If you are 
called to suffer for righteousness' or truth's 
sake, threaten not ; but commit yourself 
and the cause to Him who judgeth right- 
eously. Be thou an example of the be- 
lievers in word, in conversation, in charity, 
in spirit, in faith, in purity. 

Again, take heed to thy doctrine. Let 
your instructions be drawn from the foun- 



355 

tain of light and truth, the revelation of 
God. Employ all the means with which 
you are favoured, and all the powers you 
possess for coming unto the knowledge of 
the truth. Endeavour to discriminate be- 
tween what is taught by the inspiration of 
God, and those corrupt appendages, which 
ignorance, or prejudice, or superstition has 
incorporated with it ; between what was 
applicable to the condition and circum- 
stances of the people in the time of the 
apostles, and what was designed to apply 
to mankind in all ages. Beware of teach- 
ing for doctrine the commandments of 
men. Let the word of God be the stand- 
ard, and test, and limit of your religious 
inquiries. Be not wise above what is 
written. But imagine not that the science 
of theology alone, of all the sciences, has 
come to a stand : That while the human 
mind is advancing and improving in every 
other region of thought, no further prog- 
ress is to be made in searching out the 
treasures of wisdom and knowledge, that 
are laid up in the gospel : That all the 



356 

light and truth contained in the sacred 
volume were unfolded and imparted to the 
uninspired men, who lived in the darkest 
and most corrupt age of the christian 
church. Spiritual light like the natural, 
shineth brighter and brighter unto the 
perfect day. If therefore you would grow 
in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ, keep your mind 
open to all the light and truth that shall at 
any time break forth from the written word 
of God.* Omit no doctrine merely be- 
cause it is old, and keep back none because 
it appears to be new, provided it be found 
in the word, and taught by the authority 
of God, and be necessary and profitable 
for instruction in righteousness, and for 
perfecting your charge in the christian 
temper and life. Aim to make your 
hearers wise, and good, and happy, rather 
than able disputants or expert theologians. 
Be more solicitous to impart light to their 
understandings, and grace and truth to 

* See Mr. Robinson's charge to the Plymouth Church. 



357 

their hearts, than to entertain them with 
unintelligible or enigmatical propositions, 
which you are unable to explain, and they 
to comprehend. The way of holiness is 
represented as an highway, so plain and so 
direct, that way-faring men, though fools, 
need not err therein. Let all your preach- 
ing, therefore, have a practical tendency, 
that your hearers may be made perfect, 
thoroughly furnished unto every good 
work. We do not charge you to preach 
the doctrines of the Reformation any far- 
ther than you find them, on a careful ex- 
amination to accord with the word of God. 
But we do enjoin upon you to adhere 
without wavering or doubting to the great 
principles of Protestantism, the sufficiency 
of the holy scriptures, and the right of 
private judgment in the interpretation of 
them. The authority of God the Father, 
and of Jesus Christ the Son of the Father, 
is paramount to all other authority ; and 
the doctrine delivered by the anointed Son 
and Messenger of the most high God, 
ought to be declared by his ministering 



358 

servants, whether mankind hear, or whether 
they forbear. Every ambassador of Jesus 
Christ, as well as every other rational 
being, must give an account of himself and 
of his stewardship to God. He must be 
saved by his own faith, and not by the 
faith of his brethren. It is, therefore, a 
right and privilege, which the author of 
his being has given him, to judge of him- 
self what the word of God teaches, and be 
fully persuaded in his own mind, if he 
would know and declare all the counsel of 
God. This right we charge you to claim 
and maintain, as being alone accountable 
to the God of truth for the exercise of it ; 
and never to demand of others a sacrifice, 
which your Lord does not require of you. 
Never render applicable to yourself the 
pointed interrogatory of the apostle : Who 
art thou that judgeth another man's ser- 
vant ? To his own Master he standeth or 
falleth. Stand fast, therefore, in the lib- 
erty wherewith Christ hath made us free ; 
and be not entangled again in the yoke of 
bondage. 



359 

Once more : Take heed to the flock 
over which thou art placed as an overseer. 
Watch over it with the vigilance, and kind- 
ness, and tenderness of the good Shepherd. 
Feed the sheep, and feed the lambs. Feed 
them with food adapted to their respective 
age and character ; but always with knowl- 
edge and understanding. Let your doc- 
trine drop as the rain, and your speech 
distil as the dew. Beware lest they sub- 
stitute something for religion, in which it 
has little or no concern. There is no 
substitute for personal righteousness or 
holiness. Press upon them the consider- 
ation, that without rational faith, and sin- 
cere repentance, and obedience to the 
truth, there is no acceptance with God — 
no ground to hope for an interest in the 
forgiving mercy of heaven. The design 
of Christianity, and of all our Lord did and 
taught, and suffered, was to bless mankind 
in turning them away from their iniquities. 
If this design be accomplished in them, 
the blessing is secured. But, if this be- 
nevolent purpose of God be frustrated 



360 

through their own perverseness, they will 
fail of an interest in his grace, and forfeit 
the promised blessing. 

With regard to christian ordinances, they 
are to be administered to the proper sub- 
jects ; and of their qualifications for the 
enjoyment of these ordinances you are to 
be the judge. But take heed that you^ do 
not set up any condition for admission to 
these ordinances, which are not warranted 
by the word of God. In nothing perhaps, 
have the churches more widely departed 
from apostolic practice, than in what re- 
lates to the observance of the ordinances 
of the gospel. Too much has been re- 
quired by those within, and too little regard 
paid to these ordinances by those without 
the pale of the church. The christian 
world, with respect to them, seem to have 
lost sight of the simplicity that there is in 
Christ. The ordinance of baptism, we 
think, is to be administered to believers 
and their infant seed ; and to be admin- 
istered on the profession of the parents' 
faith in the Son of God. This is the 



361 

outward sign or token of their covenant 
relation to God. It introduces them into 
the school of Christ, where they are taught 
to observe all things whatsoever he has 
commanded. The Lord's Supper is among 
the means of building them up in faith and 
holiness, and fitting them for the enjoy- 
ment of the saints* inheritance in light ; 
and is to be administered to all who be- 
lieve in him as the promised Messiah, the 
anointed Son of God ; who appear to love 
him in sincerity ; and who desire to do 
whatsoever he has commanded. Beyond 
this, we have no authority, and can exer- 
cise no judgment ; but must leave the rest 
to the great Searcher of hearts, who has 
appointed a day and the method for sep- 
arating the tares from the wheat, and 
assigning to each their respective portion. 
In presiding in the church, the apos- 
tolic injunction is, not to lord it over God's 
heritage. The servant of the Lord must 
not strive, but be gentle to all men. Re- 
claim the wanderer, and them that are out 
of the way, if possible, by kindness and 
46 



362 

tenderness, and a due consideration of 
their weaknesses, and frailties, and temp- 
tations. Break not the bruised reed. 
Quench not the almost expiring taper. 
But, where the vital spark is not extin- 
guished, carefully nourish, and feed, and 
rekindle it to a flame — not a flame that will 
consume ; but warm, and cheer, and com- 
fort. Be wise to win souls. 

And the things that thou hast heard of 
us among many witnesses, the same com- 
mit thou to faithful men, who shall be able 
to teach others also. Lay hands suddenly 
on no man. And do not hastily defraud a 
people of their rights by withholding your 
sanction from the man of their choice, and 
peradventure, a man after God's own heart. 
Insist not as a condition of your counte- 
nance and assistance in the settlement of 
a young minister, on an explicit avowal of 
those abstruse, speculative opinions, which 
have long divided the christian world, and 
about the correctness of which, the ablest 
and best divines, who have laboured long- 
est in the pursuit of truth, have been less 



363 

confident at the close, than at the com- 
mencement of their inquiries. If there be 
competent abilities and qualifications for 
the sacred work, and a heart devoted to 
the service of God, with a determination 
to follow the path of light and truth marked 
out by the gospel, bid him God speed, and 
let him go on his way, diligent in the pur- 
suit of christian knowledge, and rejoicing 
in the discovery of christian truth. 

And now, my brother, be strong in the 
Lord and in the power of his might. Be 
of good courage, and he shall strengthen 
thine heart. Watch thou in all things ; 
endure afflictions ; do the work of an 
evangelist ; make full proof of thy Min- 
istry. And when the time of your de- 
parture is at hand, may you be able in the 
language of victory and triumph to say, / 
have fought a good fight, I have finished 
my course ', I have kept the faith ; henceforth 
there is laid up for me a crown of right- 
eousness, which the Lord, the righteous 
Judge shall give me at that day. 



RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP. 

BY REV. SAMUEL J. MAY, 
OF BROOKLYN, CONN, 



You are now, my Brother, regularly 
inducted to the Gospel Ministry. It is not 
pretended that by Ordination any mys- 
terious gifts are conferred ; but this is not 
therefore an unmeaning ceremony. The 
design of Ordination is, to impress deeply 
upon the pastor and his flock, the impor- 
tant purposes and corresponding duties of 
their union, thus publicly solemnized. As 
high as heaven is above the earth, so high 
are the objects, which this union contem- 
plates, above all secular concerns. The 
relation of ministers and people is, beyond 
any other, holy, solemn, tender. It is 
spiritual. It has nothing to do with sense 



365 

and time, but to counteract their influence. 
It has nothing to do with the passions and 
evil propensities of men, but to subject 
them to the laws of God. It is a relation, 
the influence of which, on character and 
happiness, will remain, when the world 
shall be no more. 

By the connexion you have now formed 
with this people, your and their eternal 
interests will be deeply affected. They 
have chosen you to be their Pastor, trust- 
ing that you will "nourish them with sub- 
stantial and salutary food ; that you will 
lead them into green pastures and beside 
the still waters, and not to thirsty plains 
or the barren wilderness/' They have put 
themselves under you as their guide, trust- 
ing that you know the way to eternal life. 
What a trust ! Should you be unfaithful, 
my brother, how apalling the consequences 
will be ! In shame and confusion you will 
stand before the great Shepherd, with the 
flock he has committed to your charge, 
famished and unfit to be admitted into his 
fold. 



3 66 

It is the part of brotherly love thus to 
put you in remembrance of these things, 
(though you know them) that you may 
stir up all the gifts of God which are in 
you, to the faithful discharge of the min- 
istry you have received. And now that, 
in behalf of this Council, I give you the 
Right Hand of Fellowship, I do it as a 
pledge that we will continue to shew you 
this and other proofs of our brotherly love. 
We request from you a return of the same. 
We claim no pre-eminence, no authority 
over you. You are entirely our equal. 
Christ only is our master ; all we are 
brethren ; and we need each others counsel 
and aid, and sympathy, and prayers. What 
should make us thus "kindly affectioned," 
one to another, if not the nature, the im- 
portance and the difficulties of the work, 
in which we are fellow-labourers. Shall 
we who are to herald forth that gospel, 
which proclaims peace on earth, good will 
to men, shall we be unfriendly, conten- 
tious? We, who are to teach a religion, 
whose essence is love, shall we have none 



367 

of that spirit, which suffereth long, and is 
kind ? We, who have engaged to defend 
and to forward that cause in which Christ 
died, shall we allow differences of opinion 
on points of minor consequence to alienate 
our affections, produce dissension, and by 
dividing, enfeeble our efforts, all of which 
united would be scarcely worthy their 
object ? O ! what disgrace has already 
been brought upon the name we bear ! 
How has Christ been put to open shame, 
yes, crucified afresh by the sectarism and 
bigotry of his professed disciples ! Those 
doctrines, about which Christians have ever 
been divided, are allowed even by their 
warmest advocates to be mysterious ; that 
is to say, not fully revealed. If then God, 
who is infinitely wise and good, has seen 
fit to leave these subjects still in obscurity, 
"what high presumption, what a rude en- 
croachment on the province of God it is" 
for one man to dictate to another what he 
is to believe respecting them ! Yet such 
has been, and such still is the presumption 
of many fallible mortals. Excommunication 



3 68 

and anathema have been hurled at those 
who have dared, however impelled by con- 
viction, to dissent from the popular faith ; 
and he has lived in a happy age, or a happy 
country who, guilty of such offence, has 
escaped the dungeon, the rack or the fag- 
got. It is on different principles, the 
principles of Protestant liberty- — it is with 
the acknowledgment of our common falli- 
bility, and with the purpose of mutual 
improvement, that we welcome you to the 
liberal studies as well as the arduous 
labours of our holy profession. We wel- 
come you not as the dictators, but as the 
helpers and partners of your faith and joy. 
We "bid you God speed" in the sacred 
paths of religious inquiry and christian 
duty. Goon then, following "the Bible, 
the Bible only" as your guide, however it 
may lead you to dissent from the confes- 
sions of Assemblies and the systems of 
those who have denominated half the 
christian world. What is it to you and 
me, that Calvin and Socinus believed one 
thing or another ? The great inquiry with 



369 

us is, what doth Christ teach ? and we 
should be so absorbed in this inquiry, that 
it would be pardonable in us to forget that 
Calvin and Socinus ever lived. They were, 
it is true, great men, and deserve our re- 
spect, but cannot claim any submission to 
their authority. They were no more than 
men, imperfect, fallible men, liable to be 
warped by prejudice, to be blinded by 
passion, and driven to extremes. Besides 
which, they lived at the time when Chris- 
tianity was just awaking from the slumber 
of ages. That long, dark night was not dis- 
pelled at once by a morning of unclouded 
brightness. Ignorance and superstition 
were not succeeded at once by correct 
views of God and religion. No — very 
much is yet to be done before "the truth 
as it is in Jesus/ 4 unadulterated by any 
human admixtures, will prevail in the 
world. But there is a vast deal more 
knowledge in the present age than there 
was at the period of the Reformation. 
Then, the Scriptures were just brought to 
light. Ever since then, they have been 

47 



37o 

the subject of more research and profound 
investigation than any or all other books. 
Ought we therefore to go back three hun- 
dred years to Calvin and Socinus and 
inquire what these scriptures teach ? This 
surely would be the height of folly, unless 
we believe they were inspired men. We 
have no reason to believe this. Therefore 
let us not assent implicitly or too readily 
to their opinions. But let us gladly avail 
ourselves of the labours of the wise and 
good at and since the time of the Reform- 
ation, and in the light of their researches, 
let us press on to the simple and majestic 
truth. 

In this glorious pursuit, we ought each 
to encourage and animate the other, by 
freely communicating the results of our 
own study and reflection. We should thus 
afford reciprocal aid in the detection of 
errour and the solution of difficulties. Why 
should there be the least reserve or jealousy 
on this subject ? An amicable discussion 
would often result in mutual concessions 
and a union of sentiment. Discussion 






37i 

always will be amicable when we duly re- 
spect each others rights. Let us then 
never, my brother, never for a moment in- 
dulge the wish to coerce assent to our 
opinions. Though we may feel sure they 
are correct, we may be mistaken. Others, 
wiser and better than we are, have been 
thus mistaken, and surely he is deluded, 
who deems himself exempt from the frailties 
incident to humanity. As brethren, we 
may and ought to point out and endeavour 
to rectify each others errours ; but this 
should always be done in the spirit of 
charity, which thinketh no evil, and in the 
spirit of meekness, remembering that we 
also may often err. 

Having very lately myself experienced 
the solemn impressions and tender solici- 
tude, which are awakened by an occasion 
like this, I do sympathise with you sin- 
cerely. We have commenced, my brother, 
the most important era of our lives. We 
have entered into the most solemn en- 
gagements ; and the labours, the trials and 
responsibilities that lie before us, seem to 



372 

say "who is sufficient for these things?" 
Let us be fervent in spirit, for we are to 
serve the Lord. Let us be instant in 
prayer, for we need his grace. God is ever 
near and ever ready to enlighten our 
ignorance, to strengthen our weakness, 
and to have mercy upon us. Amidst the 
trials and privations to which we may be 
called in this world of darkness and sin, 
let us not faint or be weary in well doing, 
for we shall soon leave this for that far 
better world, where pure and kindred 
spirits will be happily united forever ; 
where we shall be continually advancing 
to perfection ; where prejudice and passion 
will not mislead us ; where we shall see 
what here we cannot see, and know what 
here we cannot know ; where we shall 
pursue our contemplations without inter- 
ruption or perplexity ; where we shall 
reason without errour, and labour without 
fatigue. 



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